My Grown-up Granddaughter Asks
The Ganges at dusk?
Machu Picchu at dawn?
Dear, I am happiest
listening to Grandma
sing off-key
in the tub.
Kitchen Table, 7:13 A.M.
Instead of the front page
I look out the window.
Two hemlocks,
Japanese maple,
and a jay
have something to say.
Headlines of their own.
For twenty-eight years I’ve led creative writing workshops in public schools, and over that time I’ve witnessed, in classrooms, the changes wrought by Big Tech. Last fall I worked in a high school cla
Yesterday a neighbor cycled by as I was watering the trees. He stopped and we chatted for a while, and at length he mentioned the rising crime rate. He had just watched the local news. “It seems like
Writing is like driving at night in the fog. You can only see as far as your headlights, but you can make the whole trip that way. — E.L. Doctorow Much of the ingenuity of our remarkable species goes