Monthly Archives: August 2012

Tournament ball

Yesterday I went to watch Larry’s team (the Blue) play in the championship game for his over-65 league, the Creakers.  They pulled it off in the bottom of the 9th, winning by one run.  Because women were doing the photography, … Continue reading

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A day late

Once in awhile a strong aversion to poetry comes over me, a sort of distaste for its pretentiousness. Like Marianne Moore, I, too, don’t like it. Yesterday was one of those days, and despite reading through a number of things, … Continue reading

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Corn is one of the few vegetables left with a true season–basically August. You might find a sweet ear or two earlier or later, but with corn, fresh-picked ripe ears are the real treat, and they’re available for about one … Continue reading

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Quelle surprise!

In my desultory explorations for new poetry, I opened an anthology over breakfast and found this: I Pick Up a Hitchhiker After a few miles he tells me that my car has no engine. I pull over, and we both … Continue reading

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The Sunday paper

Larry has been playing in an over-70 softball tournament in Manteca (think 100 degrees in the sun). His team beat all but one rogue over-65 team. And even though he’s tired after 6 games in the heat, he’s been reading … Continue reading

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Voodoo fox

One of the good things to come from the fox depredation is that my neighbors have been stopping by and asking “What happened to the rooster?”  They greet his loss with genuine sorrow. How many people live in a community … Continue reading

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There are few poets who can write something as apparently simple as this and make it work, but Bill Merwin is one. As Larry said, when I read it to him–a poem like this really depends on the ending. This … Continue reading

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Starting with a recipe

One of the blogs I read, Garden for the House by Kevin Lee Jacobs, often has recipes I try. This one, for zucchini fritters, is timely. Anyone who plants even one squash plant in their garden soon has more squash … Continue reading

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Four Poets

“Luxury is who you’re with,” my friend Maureen said years ago, and one of the true luxuries in my life is to be part of a group of poets I respect who meet regularly to discuss our work. Two of … Continue reading

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Metaphors aren’t usually driven home with the force that I experienced on Friday. I had brought the hen and chicks to a new cage in the garden next to the house, and (I thought) secured the area with bird net. … Continue reading

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