I often turn to Emily Dickinson’s poems in troubled times. Friday I came across one of her more startling aphorisms..
I Hear America Singing
I just learned that today 91 million Americans are singing: in choral groups, choirs, schools, singalongs and all kinds of informal gatherings, many more than participate in other forms of the arts.
This Is the Hour of Lead
I think in fact there is no forgetting, but a different kind of remembering that goes on all the time in a deep, hidden layer…
Snow
I think we women writers sometimes scant the snow, and the weather in general, in favor of the human characters that obsess us.