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At one point, Milt simply stops praying before meals. “The loss of Dad’s prayer voice,” Howard writes, “was an absence, like losing one of your
I had never heard of Susan Cowger until I was asked to review Hawk and Songbird, her recently published books of poems, and I am
It is not a miracle—I know that. But it is extraordinary, something worth exclaiming about. For twenty-one consecutive mornings, I have risen and walked out
When I was a senior in high school in 1960, the young people’s magazine of my denomination (Christian Reformed Church) asked me and several other
. . .what I saw was a full moon rising just as the sun was going down. Each of them was standing on its edge, with
For many years, in both high school and college classes, I taught e e cummings’ poem “i thank You God,” and it was always a
I have been re-reading Marilynne Robinson’s Gilead slowly, paying attention to individual sentences, noting the wisdom and beauty of so many of them, how seemingly
“How I have loved my physical life,” says old Pastor Ames in Marilynne Robinson’s Gilead. It is the kind of observation only an elderly person
May sunshine, and the old professorsits on his deck eating a cold beef sandwich while just above the grassthe sparrows trampolinewind currents as if they’reguided
