All poets are blind or should be, blind to the world they see, yet given sight to see what is invisible. All poets should stumble through other people’s lives, all the obstacles of a sighted world or what passes for sight. All poets should write about what they cannot prove because no one…
We have a tradition at our home this time of year. On December First I put a star in our yard and another star in the yard north, south, east and west all around the house every day of the month until Christmas Eve. Then the twenty-fourth star goes up accompanied by the grandest star…
My uncle Edwin Theodore Hansen, on my mother’s side was a general superintendent of heavy construction and chief of police. He liked to camp, because he was a general superintendent of heavy construction and chief of police. He had a cabin in the north woods of the Upper Peninsula of Michigan and he often went…
Do you remember? Sure you do. You remember the night, the weather, the stars. I remember everything. So do you. You remember the music, the masterpiece upon the air and my reply to your alluring look. You remember what you wanted. I do too. Yet what I did not know, what you knew and your…
