The Missing Children

  I wrote this poem at least 30 years ago, but I remembered it today: The Missing Children   Their faces stare up at me from the side of cereal boxes, from blue stamped postcards. Have you seen this child? And now the age-enhanced replica of their faces five years later, with longer bones, a futile

Overtake the Creases

  Today is the birthday of the American poet Emily Dickinson.  Here is one of her poems: #516 Beauty — be not caused — It is — Chase it, and it ceases — Chase it not, and it abides — Overtake the Creases In the Meadow — when the Wind Runs his fingers thro’ it