The writing of Quarto of the Moon and the Calamity of 2020 began in the spring of 2020 when I heard the History Center in Woodstock,...

It’s day one of spring hatching on our magic pond and she’s oozing water above a depth of ice. They say you can ski across her cracked...

I think of these intrepids as I lay awake under a crescent moon, calm, confident of a disease-free, sneeze-free winter.

Silence here at our Moon, head down, hood up, we savor the hush when partisan winds roar in the zodiac.

Winter is icumen in, indeedy and our coal-black cat creeps to the fringe of the forest night, tasting the air. This winter smacks of...