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    at betty's


    the comforter

    fear the turtle


    hymn 236

    letting go

    unless and until

    william at forty


    curling (lekshe)

    footnotes (dale)

    hotel (patry)

    leturn (shai)

    morning drive (tom)

    st. luke's (steve)

    thank you (sage)



    they move


    amazon, amazon!



    my kite


    the story of my birth

    wings, boats, asses


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[characters]The older I've gotten (and I do attribute it to age), the more I'm prone to seeing people as they might look years from now. It's like I create those time-altering "Have you seen me?" photos in my head -- the photos on the back of junk mail postcards sent to help rescue missing children.

Walking past one of my ninth graders, I may catch a turn of the chin that makes me see her at fifty. It's 2040 and she's not in looks, having spread like fertilizer around a seed of trouble a parent may have carefully planted in her throughout the 1990's. At a future reunion she sees Jerry, now stone-faced, long ago having forgotten emotions that "weren't working for him," as the kids say today.

Happily, it also seems to work in reverse. We spent a week this past summer in Tennessee with my in-laws, including Granny, Victoria's eighty-seven-year-old maternal grandmother. Granny moves slowly but insists on going with us to relatives and to malls. She doesn't hear very well anymore, even with hearing aids. But now and then her eye sparkles and she's beautiful; she's twenty-two or fifteen or thirty-seven or even eight.

Granny insists on cooking our favorite country dishes for our visits to her farm, including the sweet potato casserole that she makes just because I love it. When we're not around, Granny tirelessly visits her contemporaries who don't share her good health. She works in her garden and takes good care of her cat and dog. She dresses beautifully.

I'm not sure why it doesn't feel right to say that age is hiding the young girl inside of her. It's safe to say, though, that she's fully alive.




Posted July 2005




short & slow



Box Elder
The Cassandra Pages
Clumps and Voids
Coyote Mercury
Crack Skull Bob
Creature of the Shade
Couch Trip
Dialogues with Silence
Dick Jones's Patteran Pages
Every Day and Every Night

Everything Feeds Process

Feathers of Hope
Fifty-Two: Weekly Poems
Finding Time for God
Fragments from Floyd
Fr. Scott & Co. Ask Some New Qs
Heraclitean Fire

Hoarded Ordinaries
Idiot Dreams
In a Dark Time
Inner Light, Radiant Life
Iron Monkey
Ivy Is Here
Listening After Dark
Marcia Bonta
The Middlewesterner
My Gorgeous Somewhere
Not Native Fruit
On the Slow Train
Open Reading
Paula's House of Toast
(p) (b)
Planting Words
The Rain in My Purse
Sage Said So
Shadow Cabinet
Shadows and Symbols
Simply Wait
Spring in the Road
Stony Moss
Tasting Rhubarb
3rd House Journal
The Truth about Lies
Two Dishes but to One Table
Velveteen Rabbi
Verbal Privilege
Very Like a Whale
Via Negativa
Voice Alpha
Walking with Celebi
Whale Sound
WMC Is Now Here