Can you push a war down within the mind
where numbers cannot count and people are not people?
Posted inPoetry
Poems
Posted inPoetry
At the National Shrine of the Immaculate Conception, Washington, D.C.
She is the quickening, the leap of faith;
she the tabernacle, mother of the world.
Posted inPoetry
Looking for Her
A crocus, impertinent in the March cold: and I’ve found her, winking.
