by Warren Gaston | Aug 31, 2023
Everywhere you look is deep, the stone and flower are deep, as are the rambling ant and the menacing mosquito. On the corner of Elm and Main crossing traffic forces you to wait. You notice hands on a steering wheel of a car passing by another occasion for deep, seams...
by Warren Gaston | Aug 28, 2023
In the first chapter of Genesis, the Bible’s book of beginnings, God did nothing but wait. God lingered. God stayed alert for emergency. (God was curious to see what would emerge.) God noticed the stirrings of urgency, something needed to be released, unconstrainted,...
by Warren Gaston | Aug 25, 2023
Friends on a lawn, in a woods, on a sandy seaside beach, in spite of roots, stony ground, irritating ants, itches, and scrap-thieving gulls, blankets are spread and a Rorschach of conviviality plops down, unfurls, expands. Friends, both old and young, each one both...
by Warren Gaston | Aug 24, 2023
To be yourself, you must be one. But which one? There are many. To be yourself, one must be two. Or more. Like God.
by Warren Gaston | Aug 23, 2023
Poets do not let history’s wounds heal too quickly or too soon. Those cavalier with historical facts only reinjure the wound. . Poets use no bandages, no casts or slings, no gels, unguents, or ointments, they pull scabs, scratch irritations, they use salt, not salve,...
