The rescuers’ mission bound for Tehran

ended in wreckage burned on the sands.

Watched day and night through the snipers’ sights

Sarajevo’s people chose:

starve or be shot in the streets.


romance, heartbreak.

marriage, divorce.


My friend Dave Anderson’s cow

broke through the fence and walked away

we searched through the hottest part of the day

we got her home but I can’t recall how


I married again


A woman calling from Flight Eleven

had a vision of how it was going to end



God was the last her family heard her say

In a lecture hall watching the towers fail and fall

I can’t see what I’m seeing, I said

to someone an arm’s length away

to my left like death


A woman about to give birth was carried

wounded from rubble that minutes before

had been a hospital’s walls

in its basement some newborns survived the raid

their mothers held them in longing and dread

artillery firing over their heads


a wait dragged on, then firing again  

then waiting again



Wheat grew in fields cratered by shells


If I had a cow, her herbivore eyes

watching me day by day would ask

Is he going to feed me, does he remember

must I find grass somewhere else to graze

I would not forget to bring hay

This might be something or nothing at all