nature

  • Anti-war Poetry Reading: No Edges on a Sphere

    A Veterans Day poetry reading by NatureCulture poets with an ecopoetic view of war and peace: Rodger Martin, a Vietnam War vet, and Karina Lutz, an antiwar vet, will be held Saturday, November 7, online.

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  • “A Human Thrush” and “Wilderness/Frontier/Desert” have been published online at “The Nature of Our Times” Gallery. Two other poems from my herbarium were reprinted: “The Nettle Whisperer” (also published in The Journal of Medicinal Plant Conservation) and an old standard, “Dandelion Root Tea.” All are linked at https://natureofourtimes.poetsforscience.org/tag/karina-lutz/. The Nature of Our Times is in…

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  • “Preliminary Visions” published

    Prelminary Visions is available directly from me or certain bookstores. From the cover: “In the deep woods, hikers say, if you feel you are being watched by an animal, you probably are. Preliminary Visions creates moments of being, moments of relation, moments of meaning-making—frequently with that sense of being observed by a silent witness and…

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  • The Wayfarer published “The Brightest Moon Ever in the History of the Universe,” a poem about falling under the sleepless spell of the full moon. It’s a lovely, contemplative and nature-loving literary magazine that was one of the first to publish my work, so it’s great to–um–come full circle with this poem about the full…

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  • “A physicist is just an atom’s way of looking at itself.” —Neils Bohr One million matters to humans only because we have ten fingers, usually, and so invented base ten and so thrill each time the odometer spills like so much oil into the river: one at a time 9,9,9,9,9, droop, droop, droop, to all…

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  • In Lime Rock Preserve

    for Mary Wise Hughes Originally published in Poecology V (Aug. 2015) http://poecology.org/issue-5/lutz/ Extra mothers to each others’ kids, you and I have walked this land of sweet soil before. Remember: we found a jack-in-the-pulpit growing here like an old friend with whom time collapses to nothing: the joy! And once we came when the wild…

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  • Bones to the maple

    Did the fox know when it left its skeleton at the foot of the maple how hungry our trees are here for the sweetness its bones leach into our soil? What image comes to the mind of a fox when it smells the burning upwind? Or is it not an image so much as a…

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