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.