love is the drum that beats in our bones even in our broken melodies of grief our symphonies of sorrow and sadness relentless resonance in the late night club of all that could have been the hope of the high hat the syncopation of surprise the gentle jazz of joy put your hands together...
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I will tell it to you as it was told to me. Somewhere early in my day I read these words from my friend Olivia, who lives in Boston. She is someone in love with life who looks for ways to feel connected to the world around her. Here’s what she found: I spotted...
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I can show you a cup of flour, or a pound of sugar, and I’ve gotten pretty good at scooping a two ounce cookie, but I am at a loss to quantify how heavy grief is, how long a heart stays broken, the depth of damage done, how far it is to forgiveness, the...
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If you have followed this blog for any length of time, or if you have read Keeping the Feast: Metaphors for the Meal, you know about Thursday Night Dinner. We gather each week with friends around our table for no other reason than to be around the table together. OK, so it also gives...
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One of my favorite Pierce Pettis songs begins, “The presence of your absence follows me.” The song has played in the background of my week because tomorrow, December 18, will mark five years since my dear friend David Gentiles died. I could say many things about David, but maybe this will give you an...
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Going to the mall each day means being inundated with holiday music — well, the same ten songs. I thought tonight I might offer a soundtrack that has found me in these days. Talking about Patty Griffin’s “Mary” a couple of days ago set me to thinking. My list is by no means exhaustive,...
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I have been going back through some poems I wrote several years ago. My intention was not to repeat them, necessarily, but a couple of them have taken hold in new ways and feel as though they are worth bringing to light once more. I needed these words tonight. I hope they find you,...
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Last night before I went to bed, I pulled the box up out of the basement that holds our tree (both Ginger and I are allergic to the real ones) and we set it up in the living room. As we working, I said to Ginger, “I wonder if life was this hectic for...
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I was going back through some poems and found this one, so I spent a little time revising it and offer it anew tonight. Feel free to sing along. first lines I pulled into Nazareth was feeling ‘bout half past dead I don’t want to hear a love song doctor my eyes have seen...
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I spent a huge chunk of the day working on my book. The time was one of my birthday gifts from Ginger. As I sat writing about home, I realized once again how much I have come to love Durham and the people who make it a wonderful city. Over the past few months...
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