The Reverberate Hills; or The Apotheosis of the Narwhal

Leftover turkey Awkwardly irrelevant Next to Christmas cakes (I may or may not get to post the daily haiku while I'm traveling. If I don...

Bach’s Christmas Oratorio has become a bit of an odd duck, plucked from its native environment; its six cantatas were meant to be a cycle, b...

Was the wind waiting Until I finished sweeping To rise up, laughing?

This is mostly a New York month, since like all the cool kids I’m going to the Met to see From the House of the Dead . This will be my firs...

Clear and cold the wind Chastely shines the changing moon You had left no word

I can't claim credit for the rosemary rolls or the pain au levain, which are from Acme Bakery . T hoisted up the loaf and said, "Th...

Seated glancing eyes Rushing crowds stopping, staring What do they expect

(Thanksgiving Day) For eagle and worm, For ship and storm and harbor, For all this, give thanks

Foods signalling feast Quietly appear on shelves: Brown, orange, red, gold

Contemplating clouds Or bashing a noisome brain. . . It's all aesthetics