Below is a piece written a few years back, now more apropos than ever. Some of those I knew were taken by old age, others from disease, still others by their own choice. I cannot erase their names. My Address Book One by one it fills with the dead. Their names written in grey penciled...

A friend recently noted that I have not posted much poetry lately. Several reasons, including a lack of writing based on a fear of mediocrity. Seems like an odd excuse, but a way of justifying creative ennui nonetheless. And so I have dredged up another piece from a time when confidence was not as much...

Years ago, when I thought I might find a place that would accept my poetry work as viable, I became disenchanted with the various publications that would send me a standard, computer generated rejection form time and time again. My sense, justified or not, was that magazines like The New Yorker or Poetry Magazine wouldn’t...

I finished a book last night. A tale of fairies and dwarves, elves and men, driven to purge great evil. Their foes; vicious and foul. Creatures born of darkness, bent on abolishing the light. Heroic deeds abound, some with brave hearts die, others live. On final pages, I read of triumphant good, learning if we...