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More Tenderer

Mild nights would have us out of doors—at their opening I am rapt.

Mother Cardinal Rhyme

Cheer and cheer and cheer she sings a song on nesting wings.

Mother in the Trenches

With a world full of foolishly dangerous men, what’s a mother to do?

Motherhood

As our friendship declined into torture, the prairie grew hotter.

Mother’s Night

She’s coming back, her arms full of the flowers I gave her once a year.

Moving to Connecticut

The dead men don’t look like themselves or anybody else.

Mr. Schmeckler

It’s a girls’ college we’re going to, but all the guys know Polly’s name.

Ms. Marmelstein

Ms. Marmelstein led with her eyelashes, curling out like scimitars.

Ms. Range Wants to See Me in It

Men can’t sense like that. Or won’t. Even a father don’t dare get that close.

Murder-Suicide

Sherman Alexie

Musée des Beaux Arts

About suffering they were never wrong, The Old Masters.

My Black Spell and Other Poems

These days I watch the world go by and do not breathe life into it.

My Civil War

Grant had a lot of buttons on that coat—when he wore it.

My Father at Twenty-Three, on the Highway Side of an Overpass Fence

In all the faded retellings of that night, there’s a lot he left out.

My Father Quoting Shakespeare Late at Night

Then came “the sea of trouble” as he crumpled his bank statement.

My Father Was a Writer

Cruelty is cruelty and you don’t ask why, you just hit first and hit hard.

My Fourth Fall

What were the unsafe things to say even in a thirty-year marriage?

My Grandmother

Someday you’ll understand, darling. Everyone will just—vanish!

Mysteries of Love and Grief

Mystery, Play and Other Poems

On a scale of 1 to 10, the pain dissolves like a Eucharist wafer.

Naming

I sensed that a name defined who I was and would be in the future.

Nasya Krevoshay

It suddenly seemed to her that the world was filled with little miracles. There were moments when love overcame her despair.

Navigating by Stars

The phone rang at an awkward hour, too late at night to be good news.

Nefertiti

The notes must be crying inside me falling from their proper octaves.

Neutral Tones

A grin of bitterness swept thereby like an ominous bird a-wing.

New Year’s Weekend on the Hand Surgery Ward, Old Pilgrims’ Hospital, Naples, Italy

Ten years ago, when I was in college, my father divorced my mother and said he wanted me to become responsible for her. That is why I fled to Italy.

Night Garden

I want these things to have another life, like the old garden behind our house.

Night Glow

Dad was blind until six months ago, when he bumped his head in the fire.

Nighthawk: Recollections of a Lost Time

Insomnia! There is a sickly romance to the affliction—initially.

Nightstands

She had not anticipated that the nightstands would be an issue.