Poetic Medicine

By Elizabeth Alexander Sometimes I think about Great-Uncle Paul who left Tuskegee, Alabama to become a forester in Oregon and in so doing...

By Elizabeth Alexander  watched him glitter,   watched him gleam, shook his un-rough hands with their cotton-scarred hands, cut their eye...

By Elizabeth Alexander A Poem for Barack Obama's Presidential Inauguration (January, 2009) Each day we go about our business, walk...

By Elizabeth Alexander My mother loves butter more than I do, more than anyone. She pulls chunks off the stick and eats it plain, explaining...