An Invitation to Celebrate

Two Crows in a Nest

So my son Steffen Corby Naas and I (2 crows) are sitting up in my nest tree at Penthous #25, and he’s reviewing my poems.  Not an enjoyer of such yuck mucks by any means, he’s saying, “Dad, you love people so much, you ought to write stories about them.”  Spurt goes the spark that lights my bush -to what was to become 12 years later Changing Colors, a 2 book memoir about this white boy’s romancing a splendid woman of color, who goes by the name of Ms. Mahogany Kashmir Dubonet Moses.

But there’s not room enough in this true romance to include my shorter celebrations of people-the Clarks and the Ledlows, in shotgun shakes long side the easeful Mississippi river-the family I left home to discover.  So what I’m saying is, give this poet a chance for cripes sakes.  Every one says my prose poems, essays, whatever you choose to call them, are not dense, their doors swinging wide open, celebrating the divine blaze in each of us. Click to continue »