marci madary Lately I have noticed a general lack               of space in my life.   I write on a pile of paper               on the...

mm Roses are red, daffodils are yellow. All these 67 years you have been a fine fellow. Carnations are pink, grass is green. You are the...

mm Here one day, then poof, gone. All of life. All the time. Snow melts. Leaves change. Completed puzzles back in pieces. Computer...

mm Advent is a tender time. Deep blues and purples catch me as I fall into darkness. Songs of coming home, and waitful hope and elusive...

mm Was my response when a friend asked about work. Some moments it feels like a little progress; then the mud oozes underfoot and all I...

by marci madary I used to be a poet. I am not sure anymore. The part of me that lived in the land of metaphor and verse has been invaded...

Originally created to link Chicago to Los Angeles, the Mother Road was made famous through movie and music. As America’s main street, it...

mm Nothing is what it seems anymore. The world is slipperier these days. More unstable. Less solid. Predictions feel pointless. Plans...

I have often underestimated the gift of slowness - ignoring it in a rush, casting it aside when in a hurry. Overly attuned to calendars,...

The Beatles’ song sings of that age as a distant future – the way we all thought of it in our youth. It seems the earth spun around once...