from “The Story of Our Lives”
If only there were a perfect moment in the book;
if only we could live in that moment,
we could begin the book again
as if we had not written it,
as if we were not in it.
But the dark approaches
to any page are too numerous
and the escapes are too narrow.
Mark Strand, New Selected Poems
HOMESCHOOLING MOTHER OF 5, ALL THINGS DOMESTIC, MY CRAZY LIFE
poems, and the poet who poems them
Daily Discussions of craft and the writing life
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Co-author of Mapping the Valley
Freelance Creative Professional
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Lifesaving Poems
Just another WordPress.com site
(poetry and other stuff, but mostly poetry)
Just another WordPress.com site
a roominghouse for the servants of the duende
pea river journal 
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