The Correspondent
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As Winter Storm Izzy whirls through the greater region, with its glaze and spit and powder, a dream of summer comes to me. Meet me there, if you’d like, with poet Mary Ruefle, in my mother’s backyard… Mary Ruefle is…
In the hush and glory of this week’s snow, I worry about the boxwoods. Their burdened boughs bend to extremes. De-formed, the bushes no longer resemble themselves. Wretched and wrecked, they need some relief, and soon. And yet – each moment,…
A bee in winter travels into the new year finds open flower * * * Happy New Year, friends! I took an online haiku class this fall through St. Mary’s Sewanee. You might want to check out their offerings for…
My friend Mary Jo gave me a beautiful book of Christmas poems, and I’d love to share three of them this morning. Whatever else the day holds for you, I hope you find a moment of peace and stillness in…
Patricia Eastwood returns to Bacon today with a lovely meditation on the mad, mad world (and two books she’s read recently). From Patricia: Some things seem so routine – the rhythm of the tides, traffic, me walking to my mother’s…
Alice gleams in the mad, mad world while parents teach their young to share a rock in the sun – the sparrow bold and sharp finds crumbs – and the moth believes herself beautiful. Black eyed susans flirt by…
It began innocently enough. She walked into a bookstore, a famous one… The green carpet had seen better days. It almost had a seedy feel, that carpet. Like it should have been in a roadside motel. It had seen a…
The Corona Gardens (I) Once upon a time (in the Time of Corona) a grand old pine perished, felled by tiny beetles which seems kind of tragic but not as tragic as it may have seemed once upon a time. Among…
It started in the attic, where a fan shorted out. “It then caught the HVAC ductwork on fire and followed it like a fuse,” Matt texted. He and his wife Mary were visiting their older daughter in Atlanta at the…