We seem to be creatures of deep and ineffable yearnings which attach to one thing or another — which never…
Jon PottFebruary 24, 2022
“Fenway Park, in Boston, is a lyric little bandbox of a ballpark. Everything is painted green and seems in curiously…
Jon PottSeptember 28, 2021
It would have been around 1950 -- most likely, as now, with snow on the ground -- that I wrote…
Jon PottFebruary 10, 2021
Thanks to a minister father who was also pianistically trained, I grew up in a home that was blessedly alive…
Jon PottNovember 11, 2020
