What Would People Look Like If We

Garrison Keillor Read Several Of My Poems On 'the Writer's Almanac' And I've Heard From Listeners Nationally And Internationally. That's One Of The Great Gifts Of Email.

To Love Life, To Love It Even When You Have No Stomach For It And Everything You've Held Dear Crumbles Like Burnt Paper In Your Hands, Your Throat Filled With The Silt Of It. When Grief Sits With You, Its Tropical Heat Thickening The Air, Heavy As Water More Fit For Gills Than Lungs; When Grief Weights You Like Your Own Flesh Only More Of It, An Obesity Of Grief, You Think, How Can A Body Withstand This? Then You Hold Life Like A Face Between Your Palms, A Plain Face, No Charming Smile, No Violet Eyes, And You Say, Yes, I Will Take You I Will Love You, Again.

If You’ve Managed To Do One Good Thing, The Ocean Doesn’t Care. But When Newton’s Apple Fell Toward The Earth, The Earth, Ever So Slightly, Fell Toward The Apple As Well.

I Live In Santa Cruz. I Moved Here In 1974 And Couldn't Leave.

Poetry Is The Most Intimate Of All Writing. I Want To Speak First From Me To Myself And Then From Me To You.