from the book What Holds Us, New and Selected Poems
I wrote this poem shortly after 9-11, when I was feeling stunned and unsure of what we are meant to do in our ordinary and yet sacred lives- with such turmoil in the world.
Sometimes the first line is missed in the playing of the slideshow (shoot!) It is: “I hung hope out with the laundry…clothes-pinned tenderly beside a pillow case and two sheets. I could tell she needed air, a sweet puff of wind…”






I blame it on the summer whirl- that my latest Joy post-card contained a typo. It’s a small thing really: too many of the word “for”, when the word “to” was intended. As a poet, I am disconcerted. The lines don’t sound pleasing; the repetition is jarring- the blessing becomes much less somehow, and easily dismissed. And so, here it is as it is written in my book,