Saturday, December 15, 2012


later after we have unwrapped the raffia
poured the rose quartz colored himalayan
salt into the bathwater
eaten the last roses
and laid ourselves down in the white eyelet linens
left from my mother
then i will tell you how this one night in december i yearned for you more than any other moment
in these last fifty years
because at that time i had (finally) ceased to believe you would ever come
and the children from connecticut
they had been shot
and everyone was grieving
like it was the end of the world
which i think it was
and you will say
yes, yes, i remember that night too
i had stopped looking for you
i didn't tell anyone but i had given up
in some profound way
all those little children

but now you are nowhere
and i think of all those little children
won't let mine from my sight
the dark hedge along the path to school is full of armed zombies
and the bridge crosses sulfur water strewn with bones

once in newtown in the summer i spent all day in my aunt's meadow
wearing a pink and white frock
so lonely
waiting for something
rubbing clover leaves together to see if i could make one with four leaves
to ward off the danger of our lives


  1. So beautiful! Thanks for sharing it <3

  2. This is really beautiful! <3

  3. When I was in high school I helped start a peer counseling program, one of the first of its kind in the state. I can’t remember why I did, though. Maybe the thought of helping the freshmen navigate their first year of high school appealed to me. It was just as likely, though, that I volunteered to be a peer counselor to have something that looked good on my college applications. Regardless, at the end of the year I was the one chosen from among the twelve or so of us seniors to speak to our local school board about the progress and successes of the program. All I can recall about that evening was that at the end of my talk one of the board members remarked that she thought I had a way with words. As the circumstances surrounding the shooting at Newtown unfold, I recall this peer counseling program and can’t help but wonder whether enough was done to reach out to the young man who found himself somehow compelled and frankly, capable, of committing such a horrific act. And even though I found myself fortunate to have relatively recently rediscovered my love of words and writing due in great part to having met you, I can not find the right word or words to describe how this event in Newtown makes me feel. As maybe you know, there is a sense of satisfaction or sometimes of profound relief in finding a word that precisely evokes what one wants to convey when writing. When I can’t think of the right word, I sometimes turn to my Thesaurus. I had to this weekend. I looked at all of the entries under “sad”. None are correct. None have the nuances connected to the sense of frustration, despair, and anger that I feel in addition to feeling just sad. But you, you have an amazing ability to find such words. I’m just sorry that today those words have to be about Newtown. Thinking about you and yours, Mike

  4. your wisdom is always so poignant, tender, and sacred. merci <3