A note on the pandemic:

Under "Creative Projects," I have a series of "Pandemic Poems" for you, including one called "Home School," with thoughts on what we might all teach each other while in quarantine.

Under "Resources," I have a "Poetry prompt set" in case your time at home calls you to explore the writing of poetry.

And under "Creative Work," some films & songs for your pleasure.

Kim Stafford

          Wild Honey, Tough Salt


Why do these things come touch my sleeve—

a dream of my father working the fields, a bird

singing before first light, a sense in my body that now

I can do the hard things? I stay in place and changes 

come to me. I do not move and I am moved, hold still,

 crowded by legions of emergency and sweetness.


Salt and honey—harder to tell the difference now. 


A friend does beauty without cause, it is honey. 

A friend dies after pure pain, we feel an odd 

sweetness knowing with a jolt the pure passage—

like the time those monks gave up the old vat of wine,

poured it out down the road, a sudden purple scarf 

along the stones alive with bees and butterflies 


gone crazy with sweetness as it passed away.