I have always been frightened by math.   8,473 km, 5,264.878 miles between Amazon rain forests, Greenland ice sheets.   150 acres Amazon forest lost every minute, 78 million acres lost every year.   11 billion tons of Greenland’s ice lost, 1 day.   Is someone not

Raspy cough, white bathrobe, fingers reaching for your ivory coffee mug, red lipstick on the rim, fingers, slender and strong like vice grips, nails stripped of polish, fingers, so many years before pressing a cold washcloth against my fevered forehead. fingers, stretching for chocolate, sneaking smokes. fingers, clasping

Feature photo: Members of United Steelworkers Local 2609 at Bethlehem Steel’s Sparrows Point Plant hold a “tailgate” meeting at Penwood Field across from the plant’s hot rolling mill to

I am not the wind Though each breath takes some particle on a flight I am not the roar nor the murmur My thoughts are as silent as a child learning I am

I began working at Bethlehem Steel’s Sparrows Point Plant in 1973. I had graduated high school in 1968 in Connecticut and attended George Washington University for one year before

Photo used under a Creative Commons license from flickr user Jasperdo  In the 1970s, I was living in Waverly, near the old Memorial Stadium. The city neighborhood was nearly all

Mac peered over his machine. His frantic foreman missed the wiser-than-you’ll-ever-be smile.   Mac was never disrespectful. But nobody messed with Shop Steward Billy McGuire, WWII U.S. Army Veteran.   I caught the big guy’s dry smile myself, radical know-it-all I

I peel leaf-colored clumps from my shovel. The clay carries memories, art class, wonders of the kiln, the rabbi’s head on a silver dish atop my grandmother’s mahogany table, forever pliable and moist, sculptures adorning the

The presidential scholar drips delicate fingers down his chin. With smooth, white, Ivy-infused certitude, he promises. Our institutions are strong. We will be just fine.   Let’s hope, the anchor replies, profusely praising his brilliance, deftly slipping into