Ah, childhood...you are but a wispy emblem in reality...
I write poetry because it’s what I do, just as frogs croak and mathematicians ponder numbers.
I've been taking photographs of my son both to celebrate him and to remember the fleeting moments that parenting offers.
Growing up Catholic in Buffalo, New York, I'd begin my day with words as ripe with mystery as the Mass itself.
Where does that writing drive come from? I’ve always had it, even though I had a happy childhood.
