Ladies and Gentlemen, we apologize for the delay, but we are holding the plane for a family transferring from another…
Jon PottFebruary 24, 2023
In this one ambiguous and conflicted world on a sunny afternoon, thoughts remain of two young birds, still learning somewhere,…
Jon PottAugust 25, 2022
We seem to be creatures of deep and ineffable yearnings which attach to one thing or another — which never…
Jon PottFebruary 24, 2022
Eighteen years ago this week, on a brilliant morning after a night snowstorm, we laid our ninety-three-year-old mother to rest.
Jon PottJanuary 26, 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
