The Tennis Ball
When I return to the dog, the first thing I see is the teeth. And then the dog disappears. But the teeth remain. Bared. Bereft of dog. The bared…
At the Orchard
We sit beneath a giant maple watching pirouettes of yellow gust upwards, each leaf an illumined skin stretched across a pliable spine. My son spins an apple between his…
Lessons of Dark and Light
Completely blind since birth, Laura would stare for minutes into a close-held flashlight beam, press the heels of her thumbs into her eyes so she could ‘see’ the eruption…
The 58th Street Library
The first block stretched on with big doors and sometimes a doorman standing in front who smiled or touched his hand to his hat and I hurried past to…
In the Small Rotary
where Route 100 meets School Street, two cows graze. I've heard Vermonters lend their cows to neighbors—and to the city, it seems—free food for cows, free mowing for the…
Sad Girl on a Bicycle
No one goes downtown. I see an empty square and name it after you. In the yard of the house you used to live in, the flowers shed petals,…
Steeplechase
Lower the shovel and flatten the ground. --Gerald Stern Mostly, denial, the nerves in abeyance— add one day and a stoop sets in. I churn my shoulders to undo…
A Walk on the Beach
On the beach the shark is dead: its marble eyes leak jelly, its underbelly, slashed, bleeds pinkly onto the sand and flies like copters circle round reporting on the…