I approach writing as a gift - the process, the time and space, and, most importantly, how it is received. I write to share. To stay true to this ethos, I want to share my poems more widely; like so many creatives, I write much more than has (yet) been published or made publicly available. I've performed these poems at various gatherings - open mics, readings, in friends' living rooms and across dinner tables. To quote the wise and wonderful Lewis Hyde - "a gift must always move". May you find something here that moves you.

National Kite Festival
washington, d.c.


Since making this video, I've published this poem with some minor changes in the Symposeum, a new magazine that re-imagines the Transcendentalist Dial magazine for 2020. You can read (and hear!) that poem here. Briefly, this poem is about the surprise of coming across thousands of kites around the Washington monument.

utrecht botanic gardens


I wrote this poem in between rehearsals for a friends' wedding in the Utrecht Botanic Garden. It's an homage to them, and to how attention to our surroundings can heighten with unexpected meaning during significant moments.

Elm Flats
new york


This is the remarkable story of a many-greats grandmother, who emigrated from Argyll, Scotland to Elm Flats, New York. Her husband died suddenly, and and on her own she successfully raised six children, ran and grew the farm, which is still in the family today.

Looking Out
buenos aires


I wrote this for my grandfather after visiting the Sarmiento Frigate Museum Ship, in Buenos Aires. He lived on this boat when he first joined the navy, the first time leaving home, living for months at a time in extremely close quarters with dozens of other men.

takoma park


The best shopping experiences are when fate steps in. A friend and I were browsing in a Takoma Park vintage store when she found this gorgeous, decades-old wedding gown. How could she not try it on? When she stepped out of the dressing room, it felt like we were witnessing a particular kind of beauty - a woman encountering an object that becomes her as if it were made for her; the act of recognizing other possibilities of yourself through the past and future.

A very occasional poetry newsletter

washington, d.c.


The first and only boxing class I took left a big impression on me. This poem is one of my favorites to read aloud, and is the most requested from my friends.