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Dreary December
I hear rumors the sun is out but it’s been a dreary week so here’s a poem about dreariness from John Keats. Happy Insensibility IN a drear-nighted December, Too happy, happy tree, Thy branches ne’er...
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Concerning thundering calls to action
Here is the opening verse to one of the poems my mother used to quote to me as a child: Paul Revere’s Ride LISTEN, my children, and you shall hear Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere, On the eighteenth...
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Hass on Lowell
Robert Hass on “Lowell’s Graveyard,” from Twentieth Century Pleasures. Prose on Poetry (The Ecco Press, 1984) . . . there is a deep abhorrence of sexual violence, of sexuality as violence. I’m not sure...
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The Tree Year # 2
I took this photo of our dogwood yesterday morning, looking a degree or two north of east, when the snowfall was fresh. The rising sun is coloring the clouds from the right. Birds were flitting around...
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Tree Year # 23
We have had a morning of gently but heavy rain with thunder that rolled and rumbled for a minute at a time, but always in the distance, like the threat of a nightmare that never quite develops. The air...
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