Berry’s poem distilled the meaning of those four summers into the clarity of spring water cupped in my hand, and elicited poignancy like the hotspots my palm had sensed hovering over ash.
Although it's pretty darned wintry here at R&S HQ, we thought we'd share a poem that anticipates a greener season. Enjoy "Gardens" by R&S subscriber Casey Crosby. Gardens My grandparents still remember my name but they forgot about their gardens. I think of how years ago they would harvest peas and rhubarb and tomatoes and … Continue reading Garden Thoughts Bloom In The Bleak Mid-Winter