Tag Archives: Hudson River

Chris Kluge Leaves Poetry Treasures by the Hudson River

(This essay appeared in the October/November 2015 issue of The Country and Abroad.) Take Me To The River Chris Kluge invited me to bring a gift for our walk beside the Hudson River: a line of poetry, a button, a … Continue reading

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Form and Poems, by Barbara Adams

By the time I got around to writing my first poem fifty years ago, the rules, forms and techniques for writing poetry had been around since the Greeks. I was, however, unaware of them. Gazing at the Hudson River one … Continue reading

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John Burroughs: The Anti-Santa Naturalist

(Originally published in the June 11, 1998 Woodstock Times.) By 1912, John Burroughs, a celebrated and opinionated author on the sublime importance of nature for one’s personal character, had noticed the birth of the automobile. And he didn’t like it. … Continue reading

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The Hudson As You Haven’t Seen It Before

Thomas Wolfe wrote big rhapsodic novels such as Look Homeward, Angel that I read as a teen. After his early death in 1938, an enthusiast named John S. Barnes went through Wolfe’s prose to convert passages into poems with line … Continue reading

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Samuel Claiborne Recalls Mauro Parisi

Robert Milby’s poem, “The Hudson River in Winter,” brought back memories of Mauro Parisi, who took his life in 2004 by jumping off a bridge. Here are two elegies by Samuel Claiborne. Mauro You were the one I first noticed … Continue reading

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Voices in the Ice

For several years each February close to Valentine’s Day, our traveling poetry salon wrapped itself up in scarves and pulled on our boots for the sandy half mile trek out the Saugerties Lighthouse, where Patrick Landewe, the keeper, greeted us … Continue reading

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January Poetry Blitz: Jo Pitkin

Frozen Pantoum What never happens happens one long span of winter, the channel of open water crusts, folds in, scars over. One long span of winter, the river is bone-colored thread: it crusts, folds in, scars over despite salt and … Continue reading

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Who Was My Mother?

(December 13th is my birthday. Really, it should be my mother’s day. Here’s the woman who became “My Late Mother as a Ruffed Grouse.”) Born Anne Fletcher in 1926 in Cambridge, Massachusetts, but Nancy Nixon by the time I arrived, … Continue reading

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