In last night’s poem, I wrote would that we had a ladder to make a consolation of ourselves I didn’t realize my autocorrect had its own poetic intent until I read the poem again this evening. What I meant to type was would that we had a ladder to make a constellation of ourselves I…
solstice come sit in the dark with me and look at that moon that is so at home in the night let us reach deep into the pockets of our souls for scraps of hope and wonder come look up at the firefly stars flinging their light lay back on the blanket of dead leaves…
After I finished writing last night, I was still restless even though I was exhausted. So I decided to watch Springsteen on Broadway, now that it is on Netflix. Once I got started, I had a hard time turning it off. I’ve been a fan of the Boss for a long time. His first album…
Wednesdays are my day to go to New York for work, which means I leave the house around 4:30 to catch the morning train in West Haven and I get home in the evening about 7. I am grateful I only have to do it one day a week and I love that I get…
A season isn’t something that befalls you, it is something that you inhabit. —John Berger, The Seasons in Quincy: Four Portraits of John Berger habitation in the fulness of time they hit the road when the days were accomplished they stayed a couple of nights then they went back home when the king got angry…
My dear friend David Gentiles died on December 18 nine years ago. I am still conscious of both his absence and his presence. Going through some old poems tonight I found this one that I wrote after he sent me a note to say he was listening to his John Denver records, a musical love…
Maybe it’s because I went into the family business. My grandfather, Milton I, was a preacher. My father, Milton II, was a preacher. I am Milton III. In the spring of my first year at Baylor, I walked down the aisle at Columbus Avenue Baptist Church one Sunday night and told Marshall Edwards that I…
One of my favorite Advent songs comes from Tom Petty. the waiting is the hardest part every day you see one more card you take it on faith, you take it to the heart the waiting is the hardest part Though the baby he’s talking to in the song has nothing to do with Bethlehem,…
I didn’t write yesterday because it was my birthday. I turned sixty-two. If my father were still alive, he would have told me I was beginning my sixty-third year. I like both marking the accomplishment—and turning sixty-two is an accomplishment—and seeing it also as a beginning so something new, even as I acknowledge that there…
Kenny Chesney followed me on Twitter this week. I have no idea why. But Kenny, if you’re reading this, would you mind promoting my books at your concerts? But seriously . . . I continue to be amazed by how we are connected. I met my friend Vijaya when we both were new teachers in…