A few days ago, snow dusted the southern landscape. Winter’s last blast showed up in a flurry of images on social media. Memory took me back to my time in Iowa. Yards seemed snowbound from November to March. I once stepped outside for a midnight sojourn in a still garden—and walked away with a poem.
Category: Family
Keep This Table Now and in Our Hearts
My thoughts turn to a fundamental ritual: the family table. After dinner on Sunday, three generations leaned into conversations, propping our elbows on the kitchen table that stood for decades through years of mischief, arguments, tears, and joy. Wherever you take a meal this holiday, I wish you sweet memories.
The Thin Veil Between Life, Love, and Death
A World War II pharmacist mate (medic) born on November 11, my dad treated his first patients during WWII. In his office, a floral watercolor featuring 1 Corinthians 13:4-13 hung on his wall—directly behind every patient. “4 Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud.”
Chattahoochee: Songs I Never Heard Till Now (for my mother)
I’ll be at the Decatur Book Festival, one of Atlanta’s premier literary events, October 3 and 4, signing copies of The Tears of Things: Poems (Booth 46, East Ponce de Leon Avenue). That’s why I’ve chosen to read a poem inspired by the Chattahoochee River National Recreation Area.
Spunk and Spark: Nannie Rewrote the Rules for Love and Marriage
From day one, Nannie was in charge. In 1915, she demanded driving lessons. She played basketball in finishing school and supported herself as a stenographer after a stint in business school. Her rules after marriage: 1) two children only; 2) her own car; 3) an annual bridge party vacation with “the girls” on St. Simons Island (no family, no questions).