In this one ambiguous and conflicted world on a sunny afternoon, thoughts remain of two young birds, still learning somewhere,…
Jon PottAugust 25, 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
