Spell to Be Said Upon Departure by Jane Hirshfield What had come here to do having finished, shelves of the water lie flat. Copper the leaves of the doorsill, yellow and falling. Scarlet the bird th...
My Father and the Figtree For other fruits my father was indifferent. He’d point at the cherry trees and say. “See those? I wish they were figs.” In the evenings he sat by my bed weaving ...
From the interview with poet Charles Simic in this week's New York Times Magazine: Q: What advice would you give to people who are looking to be happy? A: For starters, learn how to cook. We hope...
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