Explore

A Childhood in Four Acts

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

A Crow Flies Cleanly over the Cornstalks

The almanac tells them when the moon passes into ghost weather.

A Dark Place

There was no sense in brushing off or any other civilized thing.

A Farmer’s Life: Xiwuqi, Inner Mongolia

For my vacation last summer, I visited the Bateer family in Xiwuqi.

A Few Delicate Needles

It’s so delicate, the light. And there’s so little of it. The dark is huge.

A Human History in the Wilderness

My grandfather committed my grandmother to a mental asylum.

A Letter to Robert Pinsky

We caress the rough. Sensuous, delectable, and yet sorrowful.

A Life with Bears

I want to focus on bears. On knowing them, and on what they need.

A Likely Story: Anniversary

Passions played among the orchids and through cherish and reveal.

A Lot Going On Up There

The hawk moves out of the way to let a little hot package of breath rise up.

A Matter of Necessity

The survival of our world depends upon the cultivation of better language.

A Pot of Red Lentils

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

A Serious Desert

All over the planet people try to end pain: striptease, bee stings.

A Small Blip on an Eternal Timeline

I grabbed him by the face and told him life only comes to a person once.

A Smile of Fortune

She favoured me with an even more viciously scornful “Don’t care!”

A Trout in the Milk

How much simpler and more satisfying was the company of men.

A Walkabout in Andrew Wyeth’s Painting and Other Poems

My bike, my skinny body, my pent breath was thrown to the grass.

A Winter Walk

After breakfast I set out to see what my wild neighbors have been up to.

Adventures of a Would-Be Filmmaker

Since I am in my seventies, it is now or never, and I know it.

Aeneas Leaves Kansas

All night the insects’ grinding jaws chewed through the darkness.

Again, the Body

They taught us do not touch it, but who can keep from touching it?

All My Friends Are Sad & Bright

We’ve seen the news. We know the story. How even our bodies hurt us.

All Saints All Souls

This is the day when the saints all go silently to church in France.

Alluvium

He longed only for Claire’s strange seriousness, her silent focus.

Am Looking For

Desperately, children: I am in desperate need for desperate need.

American Idol

Karen was, in that moment, nothing, emptiness. She was oblivion.

An Instance of Love

We have harvested nothing more than the stench of middle age.

An Old Sidewalk

For sixty or maybe seventy years this sidewalk has been lying here.

Anemoia and Other Poems

I want to cut loose from her each wistful sigh I hear escape her lips.

Annunciation of the Self-Enclosed God

It’s another thing to have the beloved hesitate, silent, on the porch.

Pages