Sharper than a scapel, more soothing than a balm, more supportive than a cast,
poetry, as medicine, is the way through.

The Anthem

“Anthem” The birds they sang at the break of day Start again I heard them say Don’t dwell on what has passed away or what …

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BIRCHES by Robert Frost When I see birches bend to left and right Across the lines of straighter darker trees, I like to think some …

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Notes On A Staff

Japanese Winter branches tipped with birds, fat buds that blossom on the air; gray flames at rest on a poplar candelabrum; four””-no, three””-notes on a …

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Timeless Truth

what issa heard two hundred years ago issa heard the morning birds singing sutras to this suffering world. i heard them too, this morning, which …

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Ah, Dancer

  Sweet Dancer The girl goes dancing there On the leaf-sown, new-mown, smooth Grass plot of the garden; Escaped from bitter youth, Escaped out of …

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