Ladies and Gentlemen, we apologize for the delay, but we are holding the plane for a family transferring from another…
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Jon PottFebruary 24, 2023
In this one ambiguous and conflicted world on a sunny afternoon, thoughts remain of two young birds, still learning somewhere,…
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Jon PottAugust 25, 2022
We seem to be creatures of deep and ineffable yearnings which attach to one thing or another — which never…
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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.
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Jon PottJanuary 26, 2022
“Fenway Park, in Boston, is a lyric little bandbox of a ballpark. Everything is painted green and seems in curiously…
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Jon PottSeptember 28, 2021
It would have been around 1950 -- most likely, as now, with snow on the ground -- that I wrote…
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Jon PottFebruary 10, 2021
Thanks to a minister father who was also pianistically trained, I grew up in a home that was blessedly alive…
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Jon PottNovember 11, 2020