Poem

Poem There once lived a young boy named Poem, who didn’t quite know how to rhyme, who fancied the fields and the flowers, his mom felt he’d sing of in time. Young Poem liked rowing and painting, and took well to Latin and Greek, Yet, for all that he grew, both in mind and in…

A Letter to William

All we know is that she was from Smyrna And like mother, was a teacher.   Who gave birth to two boys and was wed to a writer like me.   I was told that before her photo was stolen, she looked like you. Which is to say, you are a walking remnant of the…

The Woman from San Saba

The stories you told and continue to tell are imbedded in my veins like that great, wide river riding the sound of fire past the pasture and into the bucking pen.   Now and again, I come back to this Saba soil, where the sound of your call brands my brain and guides my gallops…