Echoes of Tattered Tongues: Memory Unfolded

Outside. Leaves. On the ground. My granddaughter Lulu was over, and we went outside and gathered a pile of sumac leaves, and then...

I wrote the following poem to thank my parents and all of my relatives who suffered in World War II.  Some like my parents survived and o...

Election Day Poem I wanted to post a poem today about the America I know and love. It's an America of refugees and im...

When I was a child growing up in Chicago, All Souls Day wasn't a big deal. But in Poland it was.  At least that's what my parents sa...

My Mother's Dreams in Wartime The world burns before our eyes, and the smell of everything red is on our skin. We wait i...

My book Echoes of Tattered Tongues, a memoir about my parents and their lives as Polish slave laborers in Germany and as refugees, has re...

Thoreau is an author I love.  When my daughter was a kid, I would reel out these Thoreau quotes on every occasion whether we w...