When winter comes, the world holds its breath. Snow drapes the earth in silence, and light softens like a secret kept close.

I’m terrible at parties, secrets, and money. I want my stars sexy: fast light that’s prophetic. No nonsense about physics, refraction, past light. Even in Barcelona, I can’t turn a bike. I let you ...

Gloucester Co-Poet Laureate Heidi Wakeman wrote and read this poem at the "No Kings" rally on Saturday, March 28. She and Co-Poet Laureate Jay Featherstone were appointed by ...

I love poetry. But presented with a poetic “remix” of Beyoncé statements—even one done by acclaimed poet and translator Forrest Gander—alongside a photo-spread of Beyoncé looking gorgeous and ...

Knowledge is the fruiting body of light, and light the fruiting body of photons at the end of traveling through our nights to reach the velvet chair, the common snipe, where we see that in an object's ...

There is a rabbit sitting in the grass late on an August afternoon, when “nothing is left except light on your fur.” This is ...