Lingering, longing at dawn In a mountain town whose name I鈥檝e forgotten, about fifty miles from Marrakech, I remembered an old woman sitting alone in a field. She had lost her home.Read More
To discover that which was believed lost I thought it was gone. I thought it had left me or I had left it somewhere in the street, in a cabinet, inside the grocery store, at the gas station. The arguments were depleting, had become idiotic, fantasy. Read More
Where poems may exist, now In the building across from mine, inside the top-center window, an American flag hangs vertically. I see it every day, every morning.聽My desk faces it.聽I face it.聽Read More
On Influence: Robert Hayden in Dakar After having a conversation about a novel I鈥檝e since forgotten, my undergraduate literature professor at the University of Michigan gave me a paperback copy of Robert Hayden鈥檚 Collected Poems. Read More
