A 9-11 memory and poem, from Sister Cashel Weiler of Rochester: Sept. 11, 2001 was my first day of a fall vacation. I live in Saint Marys Convent in Rochester, and glancing at the TV, I thought it was ...

we’re barely a week old, and drying up so fast no one can guarantee the roots you put down will thrive. Let me show off a bit with names like Savannah, named for a tribe of people whose land we built ...

that came before – A separation. We served tacos. Tacos that stained the concrete under which they were served. A stain which will serve as a new kind of reminder of that day for years to come. We are ...

We are like flowers and don’t last forever. Quietly like thunder, beautifully like a river, Like a cloud, you passed through our world. You were right; Rivers will always outlive us. Grief always ...

Jay Hopler died last week. Illness streaks across this poem from his final collection — but also love. By Jay Hopler Selected by Victoria Chang I always remember these lines in Jay Hopler’s debut book ...