Tell me why the stars do shine…

The word “shine” made me remember going to summer camp for several seasons of my childhood.  I wrote this poem about it:   At Little Flower Camp   At Little Flower Camp in the summer of 1957, first time away from home, She’s nine, coddled. Hates how cold the cabin gets at night, hates theContinue reading “Tell me why the stars do shine…”

The air cares nothing for groans

Here’s a weird, surrealistic poem by Federico Garcia Lorca: Little Infinite Poem For Luis Cardoza y Aragon To take the wrong road is to arrive at the snow, and to arrive at the snow is to get down on all fours for twenty centuries and eat the grasses of the cemeteries.   To take the wrongContinue reading “The air cares nothing for groans”

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Gaudium et Spes 22

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“But I ask myself, What must I do to make my life a true story?”

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