What a long, long gestation. But it’s almost ripe for delivery. I have only to finish the formatting for Smashwords and with any luck and careful attention, this book will be available to readers next week. But here’s the weird thing about our digital world: now that Accidental Child is about to be seen in…

In 1991 poet/critic Dana Gioia asked “Can Poetry Matter?” His essay ran in The Atlantic and drew attention by the bucketful. That essay became the title piece for a book by the same name and I am rereading it this week. I was tidying my book shelves and felt the pull of his question. It’s…

A copy of Natalie Goldberg’s memoir, Long Quiet Highway, is on top of my current stack of books and it will stay there, I suspect, for quite a while. I don’t know how long it’s been since I first read it, but this copy now has many, many underlined passages and marginal notes. I did…

I obsess about writing, even about when, where and on what I write. I feel anxious if I leave home without the tools to write at the drop of a thought. For me this means a portable journal–stitched or bound so I don’t lose pages–a fast pen/pencil and a place to sit. I write on…

A poem for you, recently part of the Boulder Valley UU Fellowship poetry service:   MARTYRS AND WORMS Worms don’t volunteer to be flooded from home, to feed the hungry robin.   No cathedral rises in honor of worms, no beatification of night crawlers. Saint Worm slays no dragons, writes no treatise on the meaning…