These words…

July 27, 2014

These words are written
for Margaret Hassan, friend
of the Arab world, born in Ireland
married to Tahseen Ali Hassan, citizen
of Iraq, a woman who gave…


April 16, 2014

Sometimes I hear his voice
in mine: my father’s turn
of phrase, a sudden, plaintive
note, a particular tonality,
a hint of affected modesty…

Today, Saturday

April 14, 2014

I found myself this morning standing
in meditation at the door of my own death.
It was open. I stood on the very threshold,
dazzled. Behind me, everything was darkness.
Before me, light. This was strange, I thought…


April 13, 2014

Wind chime.
The scrabble
of dog’s paws
on the wood…

St. Joseph

Our friend Mary, who is
of the Catholic faith, said,
ask St. Joseph. St. Joseph, she told us,
is the patron saint of real estate; well,
actually, I suppose, of homes…

At the Great Temple, Abu Simbel:
My “Ozymandias”

April 12, 2014

So there they sit, the great ones, centuries later,
still sightless, gazing out across the desert sands,
the four of them—well, three and a half of them,
if you discount the one that’s come to pieces,
head off, half his torso gone, tumbled in great…

The Watchers

April 11, 2014

I see them watching over us. They stand high
on the rooftops of tall buildings, on the median strip
of highways, spaced at intervals, at the perimeter…

Three morning haikus

April 10, 2014

A book, a candle,
a blanket around my knees;
otherwise, nothing.

A siren shrills…


April 18, 2012

And so you chose to leave us,
“without a trace,” slamming the door
in the face of friends and family.
No note. No explanation. Only
a few small, neat, accusatory piles…

Sometimes, Bush…

June 18, 2007

… when I see you
in your photo ops
I am inspired
to feel sorry for you:
those moments when the fear…