On the Death of a Soldier Make no mistake: he is dead. He does not sleep. There is no whisper in his brain. There is nothing in his chemistry that can say, “I am cold.”... Read More

LAST BISON GONE Ours is the curse of the blighted touch that wilts every green shoot and flower we mean to admire, keep, re-create or improve. New Zealand’s huia bird, prized for her scimitar beak... Read More

Background chatter, the chink of spoons on china, music piped in. Outside, the sky a medley of soaring birds, on the streets people walking to work, sun shining through the window on my face.I’ve been... Read More

I. In the corner of the garden we found the perfect spot for the damask rose "Celsiana," but when we dug, we hit a boulder. I said, "Let's plant somewhere else." "No," she disagreed, "we'll... Read More

Swapping cigarettes, jabs, chips, they drift like Rockaway waves from the boys home into the classroom, ninth graders no one would bet on, discarded by split parents. The deck of misfortune they inherited keeps shoving... Read More

It’s a lonely fight, no more so than when the broken rhododendron--an ancient spidery thing just off the back porch-- flares for two fiery weeks each May, so scarlet and profuse, so labial, well, it... Read More

Paradiso No blue grocery bags rustle from the lindens lining the freshly paved avenues. No women stop before windows to stare at mannequins blank as angels. A dog barks from a rose garden. Motor scooters... Read More