A Childhood in Four Acts

End of October, days recede quickly into night. Leaves fall in slow motion.

A Map to Now

I thought my body was mine until it became a map anyone could use.

A Pot of Red Lentils

I want to remember us this way—sun streaming through the window.

Autumn Landscape

I lift my wine flask, drunk with rivers and hills.

Autumn Reverie

A strange odd lost duck day all over—sunrise with a honed edge.


People only see that side of him. He is still a boy, learning to be a man.

Dauphin County

Let us not forget the desuetude of nailed-shut carousels.

Dusklight and Other Poems

Lately it’s getting harder to say the true thing, to find solace in nature.

Elegy Written in Dust Kicked Up along a Back Road

He took off his clothes and left them on the living room floor.

Existing Light

The leaves repeat my fall in choruses more ancient than my own.

First Law of Thermodynamics and Other Poems

I’d have guessed the winter this way, every bitter plum already singing.

Fish Hook

Lure, yes, you would know how to catch and clean such a thing.


When he bent close to her, his balaclava glowed silvery in the dying sunlight.

Four Poems

This is the stupid math of loving another human being.


You came to me in a hanbok dream, fluttering as it flew in.


A spider drifted down so slowly from the ceiling on a silver thread.

Holding Our Own

A summer without passion, our selves pulled together like the leaves.

Hunting Season

Each year we fail to imagine how the days will blanch, the air will harden.

Independence Day and Other Poems

The old-timer outside the guard station was knifing his own tires.


The pumpkins are looking up my skirt, making orange a kind of festive.


Ice and evergreen and sun; three moments arranged for human looking.

Meditation after the Autumn Equinox

I am weary of the summer’s darkness in this cavern of elms. I wish the leaves would fall, that one wind would blow them away.

Memory of a Season

The current looked cold and brown. It would freeze soon—November.

Miss Harriet

I am going to relate to you the most lamentable love affair of my life.

Navel to Knee

Today brings a blue hour, but the jasmine has been dead for weeks.

Night Glow

Dad was blind until six months ago, when he bumped his head in the fire.

November Night

Like steps of passing ghosts, the leaves break from the trees.

Packing Out

The danger was my own carelessness, and now I was waist deep in it.

Peace in Autumn

My world must not be made of brief encounters along the neat squares.

Pe‘ahi Poems

I see the garden far away in itself reflected in the polished spade.