John P. O'Grady

Here is an unfamiliar name, inscribed upon stone. Words below: “Gone but not forgotten.” The name: to read, to utter, to wait. Something then exhumed. Not the one to whom it belonged. Someone else....

I was driving along a rutted dirt road on the far side of the river, through a landscape of scruffy pastures and second-growth woods. I saw a sign that said “Poetry Trail.” This was...

Winter solstice. It neither hides nor reveals. Some assembly required.

Nature is a haunted house. Its door could be anywhere. There’s one now. Walk up. Knock. Await the fall of foot. Inside or out? Nobody’s home.

One of nowhere’s many middles. Parking comes easy. Signs pointing every which way. Stay or go? Trees are travelers too.

Same old news. Some guns, some bombs, some fatalities. Too many to keep count of anymore. Another nation joins an air war. Which one? Missing Ohio teen found after being held in Missouri. No...

Black Friday. A headline reads: “Trading in stock futures this morning is directionless.” Another headline: “Active Shooter in Colorado Springs.” Things run their course. Daylight flags, inspiration too. What’s going on? The almanac says:...

A road through the middle of nowhere can get pretty rough. This one was posted with a sign that said: “Unstable Surface, Temporary Speed Reduction, 5 MPH.” The sign was rusted but we obeyed...

We were lost on back roads and came upon an intersection with a 4-way stop. Three of the roads were dead ends, including the one we came in on. Close by was a forlorn...

Where do they come from? Where do they go? In the more frolicsome days of youth, I would head out into the woods to follow dark streams, stony and thin—or sometimes game trails—just to...