Farewell, Beanie
W. D. Ehrhart, a frequent contributor to this magazine's poetry section, reflects on grief and loss following the death of Beanie, his family’s beloved cat of nearly twenty-two years.
W. D. Ehrhart
Here’s to the Cardinal Puff
My wife and I put out seeds to feed the little critters in our courtyard: wrens and juncos, mourning doves, squirrels, chipmunks, now and then a rabbit. This morning a cardinal. That reminded me of Cardinal Puff, a drinking game we used to play on Okinawa back in 1968; I’
Night Stalkers
“I ask your forgiveness; I am a mountain tiger”
“Why does she ask forgiveness?/For what and from whom?/Why does she call herself/a mountain tiger?”
Smart Fish Don’t Bite
Cycling at Vésinet
One Little, Two Little, Three Little Indians
Dying in Amsterdam
“What magnificent coordination. A ballet/on wheels. Impossible, but there it was/day after rainy day, not one collision.”