A poem of wakefulness – sort of Insomnia? Stubbornness? A sort of private vigil in which one remains awake long after sleep should have come? Hard to say. But that is the subject of this week’s poem, Vigil. This week’s…
Harbor Park – along the waterfront in Charleston South Carolina–specifically Charleston–is the setting for this week’s poem, but that’s a bit of trivia, since you don’t need to know it for the poem. Below is a picture of part of…
Did you miss poems about Sisyphus? Yes, the guy forever rolling the stone uphill. One of the reasons the myth of Sisyphus is so enduring (says me) is that it parallels our understanding that sometimes things have consequences that can’t…
I’m pretty sure the groundhog lied to us. Whether it is truth or lie, the story goes like this. We have a secret agent who tells us the late winter weather forecast each year. His name is Punxsutawney Phil, and…
Are you tired of winter? I am. We’re having crazy weather. It’s too warm, or too cold, and both we and the environment in general seem confused. It’s February and I see some trees starting to bud–which is perhaps a…
