Wild Mountain Thyme Oh, the summer time is coming, And the trees are sweetly blooming, And the wild mountain thyme Grows around the blooming heather. Will ye go, lassie go? Chorus: And we’ll all go together To pluck wild mountain thyme All around the blooming heather, Will ye go, lassie, go? I will build my
Cold Spring Birches bend to wind. Ragged skein of geese flies over. Both my hands are numb. -May 13th, 2020, New Hampshire
The Naming of Parts Today we have naming of parts. Yesterday, We had daily cleaning. And tomorrow morning We shall have what to do after firing. But today, Today we have naming of parts. Japonica Glistens like coral in all the neighboring gardens And today we have naming of parts. This is the lower swing
Goldfinch flashing past So fast that when I blink, he Might not have been there.
STATE BIRD In New Hampshire, May ought to be the best month of the year. October is exhilarating, certainly, with the maples dressed in their glorious colors and the temperature brisk and bracing, but the color and the temperature are reminders that winter is just around the corner. And winter lasts forever, or seems to,
Obsidian Black stone born in fire, Long journey through heaven’s storms To present stillness. New Year’s Day Ice storm left diamonds On all the hemlock’s fingers. My nose is running. April 15th, 2020 Owls in the barn. The house is deserted. April is cold. No Hurry Two cats watching a porcupine waddling slowly away
As the Orange Oaf in the White House continues to prevaricate and blather nonsense about the coronavirus epidemic while doing little or nothing to stem it, and the Senate Republicans under Mitch (“Mister Bluster”) McConnell continue to refuse to remove him from office for fear of antagonizing the racist, misogynistic knuckle-walkers who shoehorned Drumpf into
Yale Tombs (This piece was written in 2004) I graduated from Yale University in 1964, and in an election year in which both candidates are Yalies who were members of Skull and Bones, some of my friends who think of Yale as a training-ground for Elite Eastern Snobs (which it certainly was while I was
TRY TO REMEMBER The place was a once-grand resort hotel in Branford called the Montowese House, on the Connecticut shore of Long Island Sound, built by one William Bryan in 1866, for affluent people from New Haven and Hartford seeking healthful sea air and cool breezes during the summers. The Connecticut shore never attracted the
Limericks For The Mango Mussolini How unpleasant to meet Donald Trumpster! If you’re female, he’ll fondle your rumpster. If Latino or black, He’ll launch an attack And try to throw you in the dumpster. How depressing to meet Humpty Drumpty! He shouldn’t be running the country. He’s so stupid and crude, He makes Dubbya look