Jun 26, 2015 | Hymn, Quintains, The Work of Greater Minds
How sweet and awful* is the place With Christ within the doors, While everlasting love displays The choicest of her stores! Here every bowel of our God With soft compassion rolls; Here peace and pardon bought with blood Is food for dying souls. While all our...
May 27, 2015 | Grief, Gus Stevens, Mom, Songs for the Dead, Sonnet, Terza Rima
If you believe that deaths do come in threes and that we are maskers in some Greek play then I am deathless, immortal to disease. No foe’s hand can spill my blood nor make me pay the infinite cost of my one own life; it must be by my hand: no other way. Mother...
May 10, 2015 | Mom, The Work of Greater Minds
I was told that all the firsts would be hard. Today is my first Mother’s Day without my mom. Billy Collins, in his poem “The Lanyard,” has captured my own feelings better than I could myself. In it he tells how, as a child, he’d thought that...
Mar 25, 2015 | Spring, The Work of Greater Minds
To what purpose, April, do you return again? Beauty is not enough. You can no longer quiet me with the redness Of little leaves opening stickily. I know what I know. The sun is hot on my neck as I observe The spikes of the crocus. The smell of the earth is good. It is...
Mar 8, 2015 | Grief, Gus Stevens, Mom, Quatrains, Songs for the Dead
How ill a son returns his mother’s love. A mother’s love is spendthrift, wasteful, strange– while his response, at best, is but an echo of that heart. —It will never be a fair exchange. Share...
