I love this poem by my friend Freddy’s cousin, an homage to one of my favorite radio journalists. https://www.psychiatrictimes.com/view/legacy-psychiatric-reflections-on-verdict POETRY OF THE TIMES 1. Dear Terry Back in the 70s, before I knew my own voice, I listened to yours while we learned our trades— you with comics and writers and rock stars, me withContinue reading “Terry Gross, Poetry, Psychoanalysis”
Shelter in Place
Am I the only one who finds this phrase liberating? A tyranny of choices reduced to the lowest common denominator, a frosted cake cut in half, then in half again, and again until all that’s left is one manageable slice. My body, a restless cat always pacing, is forced to rest for the first time,Continue reading “Shelter in Place”
“Winter Prayer”, one of my poems published today in Your Daily Poem
Winter Prayer That first winter in Vermont,how dark and quiet the streets werein the small town. How unkind.Winding off without sidewalksinto desolate fields of snow, coyotes wailingjust beyond the widow’s lonely backyard grave.One night, cloaked in solitude like a travelerfrom another land, I followed one small sidewalkthrough the town center, past the general store,the toyContinue reading ““Winter Prayer”, one of my poems published today in Your Daily Poem”
Snowy Salem, Mass in photos
I found these photos I took a few years back when I lived on Boston’s North Shore. Salem’s narrow streets and old houses are lovely covered with snow.
From Caves to Castles- Exploring Southern Italy’s Cultural Treasures
My latest story in Italian America magazine explores southern Italian art and architecture.
Tutti a Tavola!
A poem about my family was recently published in the Paterson Literary Review.
Imogen
I love this poem by English poet Sir Henry Newbolt about dancing and living in the moment.
What I Wanted When I Was Twelve
A new poem about childhood.
Round and Round
At the hospital like Persepolis I steppedout of time’s familiar landscapeand left the light behind,creeping down death’s long hallways,past room after room, each onea box holding within it a life honeycombed,memories stored like the scent of cloverwithin a bale of winter hay.Finally, I found you, lying still,unable to speak. Staring into your eyes,I saw myContinue reading “Round and Round”
Grasping
A new poem in the style of Chagall’s paintings.
Kristin D'Agostino 