The word incunabula refers to the earliest printed books and is often translated as cradle books. Some books cradle me. They feel familiar and steady, not like the cradle that falls out of the tree, but some of my early reading still rocks me, tips me one way and then the other, challenges my balance.…

Slam Nuba is people, people who have won “National and World Poetry” competitions since 2007, so says the flyer on my desk. They want “to promote the creation and performance of poetry by cultivating literary activities and engaging in community.” Great mission statement. I might copy it, but I’d be a fraud if I tried.…

Gabriel García Márquez is gone and his death feels like a personal loss. I never met him except on the page, but I treasure the gifts that he gave me: an understanding of another culture and land, lessons in how the web of family touches history, flights of imagination that created the genre of magical…

I have not been happy with the dry, stale idea I had for this week’s blog. A better one came to me yesterday but I did not write it down, and now it’s gone. So where do I find another? If I want oranges, I take my string bag to the store and buy oranges,…