For Saint Patrick’s Day, I thought I would share a bit of Irish history (sometimes called mythology). This poem tells the story of Patrick’s encounter with a poet named Oisin. Oisin (pronounced O-sheen) was the son of Finn MacUail (pronounced M’Cool) who was a great warrior. Oisin was the poet who recorded his father’s great … Continue reading Oisin and Patrick: an Irish Tale
When I feel sad disconnected unsure of where I belong I invite the poet in. She will remember the soft yellow-gray belly of the mocking bird vibrating as he trills high above me on the outer branch of a tree at the edge of the bridge. Darn, I can’t remember what kind of tree … Continue reading Poetic License
The day before Easter, just about a month ago, I tripped on a concrete block in a parking lot and fell flat on my face. My chin was cut badly enough to need seven stitches, and my jaw now has a tiny little crack in it. I was blessed in that they didn't need to … Continue reading Gravity: how it pulls us
