GLASS POETS

While on Martha’s Vineyard in September, I happened upon the indelible sight of dozens of wooden gaff-rigs and schooners lining up for a...

Noble feathers of the wind Fall at the behest of their master, Twice slain in that fallow field Which men refuse to plow, For there lay...

2016 A sandy sunset serenade, strumming a submarine seagull, seated on a stump. - - - My father grew up on the lake, and wanted a seagull...