The first purple wisteria I recall from boyhood hung on a wire outside the windows of the breakfast room next door at the home of Steve Pisaris.

A solitary apartment house, the la… before the boulevard ends and a du… winds its slow way out of town. On… through the dusty windows Karen be… the elegant couples walking arm in…

Lately the wind burns the last leaves and evening comes too late to be of use, lately I learned that the year has turned

Three boys down by the river search for crawdads. One has hammered a spear from a curtain rod, and head down, jeans rolled up to his knees, wade…

April, and the last of the plum bl… scatters on the black grass before dawn. The sycamore, the lim… the struck pine inhale the first pale hints of sky.

Brooklyn, 1929. Of course Crane’s been drinking and has no idea who this curious Andalusian is, unable even to speak the language of poet… The young man who brought them

Remember how unimportant they seemed, growing loosely in the open fields we crossed on the way to school. We would carve wooden swords

My father and mother, two tiny fig… side by side, facing the clouds th… in from the Atlantic. August, '33… The whole weight of the rain to co… of all that has fallen on their ho…

The air lay soffly on the green fu… of the almond, it was April and I said, I begin again but my hands burned in the damp ea… the light ran between my fingers

When my brother came home from war he carried his left arm in a black… but assured us most of it was stil… Spring was late, the trees forgot… I stood in a long line waiting for…

He tells me in Bangkok he’s robbe… Because he’s white; in London bec… In Barcelona, Jew; in Paris, Ara… Everywhere and at all times, and h… He holds up seven thick little fin…

All afternoon my father drove the… between Detroit and Lansing. What… I never learned, no doubt because… though he would grab any unfamilia… and follow where it led past field…

A blue jay poses on a stake meant to support an apple tree newly planted. A strong wind on this clear cold morning barely ruffles his tail feathers.

Pond snipe, bleached pine, rue wee… I walk by sedge and brown river ro… to where the old lake boats went d… All the ships are gone, the gray w… in upon itself. Even the channel’s