Dear Winn – 21 February 2016

Dear Winn: Thanks for your letter. To think of you and Miska and your good boys traipsing around Acadia and Prince Edward Island fills me with such happiness. I’m thankful you have the vision to set out for haunts like that. You’re etching memories into your boys’ brains, and days far into the future those…

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Dear Winn – 17 February 2016

Dear Winn: I loved the piece Ginsberg wrote about Scalia. I needed to hear that too. I really did.   In your last letter you wrote “I wish I had words to describe the estrangement I feel from the dominant storylines in our world.” Thanks for that line. Man I feel that too. I confess…

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Rhythm Finally

It’s rhythm finally that makes it work. That’s what Wright wrote about writing poems. This applies to other humanities as well – for example running, riding a bike, sex. Yet it also touches those puzzles that are suddenly bang in your life and you’re timed to discern how to make them work not because you…

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Dear Winn – 11 February 2016

Dear Winn: I attended our Ash Wednesday service last night. I was up yesterday at 4am, my usual rise, so by 6:30pm, put me in a darkened room with candles flickered by quiet whispery scripturey voices, boy I was captain drowsy eyes. But I longsuffered, its what you do. The service was full of elements,…

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Dear Winn – 6 February 2016

Dear Winn: I think you know this, but sometimes its good to be clear. This is letter writing between friends, not a ping-pong game, so I don’t have to wait for you to hit the ball back before I return, the same goes for you. Capiche?   An old high school friend of mine died…

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Dear Winn – 2 February 2016

Dear Winn: Well, the girls have got their second snow day in a row. The school district actually called it last night, which surprised us all. But there was some sort of glitch yesterday morning in the text-notification system and evidently a number of parents didn’t know school was cancelled. I’m sure those parents voiced…

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Dear Winn – 28 January 2016

Dear Winn: 28 January 2016, the 30th anniversary of the Challenger explosion. I stayed home my freshman year and attended a community college on a super-sweet scholarship. Such an arrangement afforded me the opportunity to have lunch most every day with my parents. Now that I think about that it brings tears to my eyes.…

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The Beautiful Never Go Far

It often takes a death to create the noble sense to stand still, to listen and observe the glad and fearful story. And so you do, you stop and notice the day is clear as gin and you’re alive not because you’ve been living right (you know better than that) but rather because you’re alive.…

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An Honest Man

It takes a certain sadness to love your own responses to things. Some call this poetry, but I’m not certain about that. Just the other day I saw a bay of coots on Flathead Lake slowly swallowed by snow falling quiet as a pulse. The scene was so pure I thought I might weep. But…

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The Earnest Young Writer

She approached me as if I was the good Lord himself and said      Tell me the best ways to build my platform. I sighed inwardly, having heard that honest plea too many times now. I caught her eyes and answered      Its a hard business being alive.      Find someone or something to love…

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