Infatuation is not quite the same thing as love; it's more like love's shady second cousin who's always borrowing money and can't hold down a job.

I think of modern marriage as a car strangely fashioned out of an old abandoned horse carriage, built upon the framework of a mule cart. All the original engineering is still there, underneath it all.

I equal parts loved him and could not stand him. I couldn't wake him to share in my distress.

the beauty of doing nothing

Listen to the whispers or soon you will be listening to the screams.

I crossed the street to walk in the sunshine.

One of these poems I wrote after having been here only a month. The other, I wrote this morning. In the space between the two poems, I have found acres of grace