Author Archives: magn8717

The Friends of the West Roxbury Library are having their annual April poetry contest. This year’s theme is listening. Here is the first poem I’m entering in the contest!   Listening to my wife She tells me this and that … Continue reading →

How was it he could be surprised it was snowing? After all, it was February and it is widely known it snows in Boston in February.  And he had been living in Beantown for twenty years so he had no excuse. … Continue reading →

Here’s my last effort from the poetry workshop.  It is a poetic form from the early-Renaissance troubadour days known as the sestina.  Basically, you pick six (6) words that mean something to you and use them at the end of … Continue reading →

My wife Andrea and I really enjoyed the poetry writing workshop these past two weekends at the West Roxbury Branch of the BPL. The workshop was facilitated by poet Mary Pinard who was wonderful and helped us all get over our … Continue reading →

One of my favorite places to go is the library. And that’s where my wife and I found ourselves on a winter afternoon last saturday. Libraries are special to me because I grew up in a family that revered books … Continue reading →

Damn, he was in a rush again. Why did he do this to himself? A glance at the kitchen clock confirmed he was running late. What followed was a mad search for his wallet, watch, smartphone and backpack so he … Continue reading →

It seemed like a good idea at the time, Christmastime to be precise. The first blast of truly winter weather was hitting New England. It was a week  before Christmas. I looked out the window from our toasty warm kitchen  … Continue reading →

Several days ago, someone cut me off when I was driving. I blasted the horn at them and gave them the finger. And the elves were watching. Another day, I was on the commuter train, standing in the aisle waiting … Continue reading →

My mother and my sister both passed away three months apart back in 2010. Their deaths were unrelated,  but with both of them gone, our family holidays were basically blown up. My mother with all her cooking and holiday-drama was … Continue reading →

Roper and Alamo Stone were having coffee. They were sitting at small café like table at the end of a hallway in Stone’s house. At the other end of the hall was a mirror. Roper looked warily at himself in … Continue reading →