DiaBLOGue

Sisters

My sister and I had no whispered secrets 
between us, shared no hollyhock days. 

Why Am I Here?

I found this philosophical bit by Chip Janis in In the New World (1988), a little book of poems put together by young Indian students at the Pretty Eagle School and St. Charles Mission in Ashland, Mon tana. Why am I here? It is a question most of us come face to face with. I have heard that Leo Tolstoy, after he had fathered thirteen children, helped Tsar Alexander II free the serfs, and written dozens of articles and books, still tortured himself with the question: “Why am I living?”

For Meg — With Doubt and Faith

In times of drought, it is hard to remember times of flood. After yet another California winter without sufficient water, we take quick showers, rarely flush the toilet, let our lawn grow long to hide…

Being Baptized for the Dead, 1974

It throbbed a little, the gash in my left palm. 
I pressed the gauze, something to finger 
while we waited —boys here, girls over there, 
all of us wearing jump suits heavy enough 

The Eastern Edge: LDS Missionary Work in Hungarian Lands

On the periphery of his thoughts, iron wheels clanked, March winds scratched past windows, a swaying passenger wagon groaned, and a steam engine chugged rhythmically. The tracks traversed the massive Iron Gate gorge, a slit…

Words for Late Summer

Cornmeal, dusted over these loaves 
like pollen. And I wish again 
for the old unwritten recipes: brown breads, 
chicken baked in a wrap of cornmeal, 
family reunion picnics I can’t match 
with my own. 

How Can a Religious Person Tolerate Other Religions?

When I was in my early twenties, a prominent American rabbi, Yitz Greenberg, once heard me lecture to a Jewish group. I was offering comparisons between Judaism and other religions. Afterward he complimented me on…