poems
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I dedicate tonight’s Blackout Poem to my mother-in-law, Bonnie, who is the queen of garlic. She cuts up and eats raw garlic with nearly every dinner, including (BRACE YOURSELF!) pancakes. I still remember my initiation into the Stitt family upon first meeting my wife’s older brothers. You like garlic? Here, try this. As an Italian,
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Autumn has always been my favorite season. Perhaps my birthday coming shortly after the autumnal equinox has biased me in favor of this rich time of harvest and change, but as I meditated on turning forty-six and my desire to live to be one hundred years old, the following sonnet emerged. I struggled to capture
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“[A body] belongs to the world of love, which is a world of living creatures, natural orders and cycles, many small, fragile lights in the dark.” Wendell Berry – from “Health is Membership” Reflection: The Bull Thistle By Vincent H. Anastasi 2022 Magenta flames stopped me on my way, burning on the spiny base of
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Monday morning, as I looked out the windows of The Observatory (our family room), I saw a grey heron down in the creek. At first, I was content to simply admire him from afar. Besides, if I went outside and down to the water’s edge, I’d surely scare him off. But the lure was just
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A quiet evening by the open window reading Andrew Klavan’s The Truth and Beauty. The neighbor’s window air conditioner humming incessantly in the background. William Wordsworth’s timely sonnet about the pervasive nature of our modern world. A train whistle in the distance. The bread and the wine. What follows is the synergy of those experiences
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My daughter brought home a container of Magnetic Poetry, the Receivables Custom Edition, from work last week (she works at our local library). Since then, the refrigerator has become the deepening ground of our home with everyone chipping in to various poetic “masterpieces,” including the eight and ten-year-olds (grandma has not felt poetically inspired as
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True love is the deepening ground of life. Unfortunately, so few are willing to labor together in the field, transforming the hard soils of life into the oasis offered to us in true love, especially in the midst of trying times. Most so-called “love” peters out just inches into the earth. So few are willing
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It’s not Wolf Creek, but it will have to do. If I could have had a decent camera with me a few Sundays ago as I floated down the creek that borders our property, staring up into the cerulean sky with only a few cumulus clouds floating by, then I could have captured the exact
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The academic year winds down, and all the responsibilities and tasks that come with it come crashing in like a tsunami. At the same time, gigs are picking up and I’m readying myself to serve as an AP reader in early June. In the midst of this, I tweaked my neck and it’s taken multiple
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A week away from the normal routines of life is refreshing, even if it comes with other, pressing responsibilities. We have just returned from New Jersey where my son and daughter competed in a regional speech tournament. While there, I spent most of my time either judging rounds (ten, to be exact) or watching my
the deepening ground 