The author comments:
Not a poet, I have nonetheless written poems throughout my writing life. The writer writes, contriving communicative artifacts from words, finding form as needed, using form to free content.
I have not pursued the poet life or publication. Still, the poems exist.
“Rhapsodic Photography,” from 1968, gave me the title of a collection I made of poems up to then (and kept to myself). The words epitomize my poetic impulse: to capture a concentrated image of the moment — rhapsodic in the sense of impassioned, enthusiastic, ecstatic. And I like the sound. Thus: poems.
The collection has expanded over five decades and tracks the story of a life, if you care to read between the lines. The cells in our bodies change, circumstances evolve dramatically, people come and go, embodying love and connection to the world; still we each feel ourselves to be one person, somehow the same I through all. Poetry is naked expression, intimate, confidential, saying as much as it can in a few words.
Here they are.
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