a word from wallace

This came into my field of vision this morning and I thought it too good to keep to myself. From Wallace Stevens -- "Ask Me" Peace, Milton

show time

I stood one brilliant autumn afternoon at Quincy Market and watched a man juggle a bowling ball, a tennis racquet, and a chainsaw with the same ease as those of us who watched drank our lattes and ate our cannolis; I wondered how he practiced – what was it like the

one more song

Years ago, I wrote a lyric for a Communion song called "Here's to the Day" and the last verse says gather in close cling to each other sing to the night you don't sing alone This has been a day when I have been

hymn sing

Dad and I sat at breakfast yesterday and talked about the old hymns that fed our hope and faith in these days. This is the one I have been singing tonight, though not quite David Phelps. We have felt held by Love today. Mom had a long, hard day and

villanelle

it’s not what you know it’s what you don’t know or what you’ll ever figure out that takes you out where the wild things grow and makes you wonder what you’ll have to show for all the days of being devout it’s not what

lines

I have a love-loathe relationship with much of the technology that gets thrown at us. I love my laptop and I wish the manufacturers had chosen to make sure they were making a great mobile phone before they added all the un-phone features to it. And I don’t really

weighting room

it’s not the same you know waiting in line waiting for the phone to ring waiting (waiting) for the world to change tonight I am not passing time or fostering impatience I am waiting for news No – I am weighting for news time is not passing time is falling

sailing around the kitchen

Tonight was a night to remember in the kitchen because nothing really happened. And it was a night I learned from my coworkers. I shared the evening with Mitch, our line cook (and among the best read line cooks with whom I’ve had the privilege of working), and Arnaldo,

prize musings

In the fall of 2000, my friend Jack and I drove from Boston to Stanhope, New Jersey for the Geraldine R. Dodge Poetry Festival. It was one of my favorite experiences, and I was reminded of it when I came across the poster I bought (and never framed) cleaning up

worth passing along

It's not often I quote something without a post to go with it, but time is short today and this is worth passing along. From Pedro Arrupe: Nothing is more practical than finding God, that is, than falling in love in a quite absolute, final way What you

photo + graphy

the word holds it’s own image photo (light) – graphy (writing) rays as old as the universe captured on paper, looking like you and me one past afternoon, another at sunset, and on through the stack of time that stays in the old shoebox, waiting to be seen again, to

straight talk

When I taught in the Boston Public Schools, one of my colleagues who became a friend was a man named Ed, who was a good eight inches taller than I was, in much better shape, and always had on a coat and tie. He is also African-American He told me