Ode to Night Poems The many hands of possibility lift me from bed, carry me out into the small hours…
The Mimosa Every hurricane season, I wonder why I bought a house with no basement. If I’d followed advice, I’d…
Origin Story Whitney’s mother didn’t watch us good I knew this to be true the day we saw the baby…
Porcelain Meditation The toilet keeps backing up and I’m tired of thrusting the splintered plunger up and down, tired of…
Mapping the Sky Sometimes I feel like I’m flying over Alaska And can’t see anything Or I’m a moose shot…
Prairie Waves Grand Forks, North Dakota It could have been a January like this when the afternoon light from that…
On the Road to Oakridge Mid-morning and I’m late to a meeting at the Town Hall, and I’m only outside…
Kim Stafford, Oregon’s Ninth Poet Laureate Some say he followed in footsteps, wore hand-me-down boots or learned to pull up…