Monthly Archives: April 2019

The Carpet Was Thinking Of What Color It Wanted To be Next By stages, it ceased to be a dream close to her face, the curtains smell like the sun, and the book ledge, full of books and plaster ceiling. … Continue reading →

My Life Before The Next Morning If I lose track of my life before the next morning, it weaves its way through the train again. The way heaven does, or you do, or the way we think or move together … Continue reading →

I look differently than all the times I stood in this room before. No longer who I was then. For the sake of vanity, I shed my pageant clothes. I suppose … this time she looked nice, or made some … Continue reading →

Clair De Lune At the time, Claire and I were sitting at the swimming pool. We needed words, I said. Claire ran into the house, and brought out a book. It was full of words — Her sister dived into … Continue reading →

Poem In the mornings, I walk from my house into town. Each day I do this, I walk with a little girl who wants to be a newscaster one day. I’m Nina Teutenberg, and she can be one of the … Continue reading →

Sonnet to Mrs. Miniver Today, I saw you twice, and both times through glass. We still have church. It has never been removed, and remains the most important day of our lives. The theater is infused with the rights of … Continue reading →

Sonnet This time the studio I rented was already in the garage. We were sitting in front of the fireplace, and the flowers were blooming outside. I thought about this period of my life, and the daisies blooming on the … Continue reading →

Sonnet These critics (in Seymour’s calendar at the magazine itself) had become accustomed to Seymour’s unpredictable style. It was attributed to her need to survive Nine Stories, and Gloria Swanson’s dive. If Bill Holden leaves for New York again, with … Continue reading →