Stepping Off Always, in the big woods, when you leave familiar ground and step off alone into a new place there will be, along with the feelings of curiosity and excitement a little nagging of dread. It is the ancient fear of the Unknown, and it is your first bond with the wilderness youContinue reading “Apropos of the First Day of School…”
From an interview with poet August Kleinzahler: INTERVIEWER Recently Poetry posed a question about the social utility of poetry. Does that interest you? KLEINZAHLER No. I agree with Auden that “poetry makes nothing happen.” Nothing else needs to be said about it. INTERVIEWER One more: some argue that the only value of a work of art isContinue reading “Five of Five (Good Things)”
Moreland Avenue Kroger parking lot.
A neighbor “commissioned” this wall last year. The stonemason worked at his own pace, setting bits of quartz and shell into the nooks and crannies. I wish my yard needed a wall.
Hitchhiker, Moreland Avenue Overpass. The other sign she’s holding says: “Artist headed to New York.”
“Found art,” I-20 overpass, Cherokee Avenue
Five good things, I tell my daughter as she leaves for school. Because the weight of Twelve drags heavy on her shoulders lately, especially in the mornings, more of a burden than the overladen backpack middle school requires. See if you can see five good things as you walk to school this morning. Earlier,Continue reading “Five Good Things”
This morning, as I headed somewhere, car keys in one hand, iPod in the other, I found myself yanked momentarily away from my earnest, busy intentionsby a glimpse of gold peeping from the green foliage in the corner of our front yard. And then, before I really knew what hit me, I was balanced precariously at the edgeContinue reading “Harvest: An Ode to Sun Golds”
Back in the early aughts, soon after I returned to Georgia after spending a decade elsewhere, I wrote a personal essay in which I referred glancingly to the fact that I lived in “intown Atlanta.” The editor of the publication struck the word “intown” from that description. To her, Atlanta was just Atlanta. Me, I’ve lived here long enough nowContinue reading “Home.”