The Sentimentalist is still looking for his glasses. The moon is setting behind him. A Leap Year proposition that makes complete sense. (No, really!) Some sage advice. And a trip to the audiologist today, heralded by that brilliant poem.
February 22, “My Brother, A Star”
Another great night with the poetry workshop. Another great morning with the dog. A poetry request from a pal in Pittsburgh. Lots of pruning and the scars to prove it.
February 15, 2024, “Love Poem”
The snow is falling, the dog is jumping, the reno-brothers are putting in a floor, and the Sentimentalist is knocking down trees. What? And that Love poem. You know the one.
And here is the chat with Dana VanderLugt…
February 8, 2024, “Before the Game”
Looking forward to tonight’s program with Dana, and remembering Jack’s Dad and his quiet way of teaching big things.
February 1, 2024, “Some Time in the Early Morning”
The poet in his office, issuing decrees and managing all the things as work on the house progresses…
January 25, “Night Gym”
The Sentimentalist is coming down from the Big Snow, and gearing up for his new book. Also noting the general and specific angst of the Nation. Vivi the dog sleeps it all off.
January 18, “Ice Storm”
Crawling up out of our storm days. Celebrating fellow poets and good neighbors.
January 11, 2024, “All I Know Is, It Was Dark”
Snow! And loss of power and rescue relatives, and woolly things, and emergency preparedness… or not. Throw in one delighted dog.
January 4, 2024, “Putting Away the Santas”
Ah the gifts and the Santas and the painters and the dog! Happy 2024, or at least, Not Unhappy 2024 to you!
December 28, 2023, “A List of Possibilities in an Uncertain Order,”December 28, 2023, “
We are in the yard. In 40-degree weather. The sounds of industrious work all around us. The Dog is keeping tabs. On what? We aren’t exactly sure…