I can remember, as a boy, having to memorize poems such as "Under the spreading chestnut tree, the village smithy stands..." and thinking, I imagine under the influence of my mates, that poetry was something for strange people, and not in my sights, certainly not in a league with baseball, or other pursuits young boys embrace. I actually wrote my first poem on a private retreat in a rain forest on Maui in 1991, and I have been infected with a desire to read and write poetry ever since. I've had poems in several journals, such as The Evansville Review, The Penwood Review, Ruah, and Concrete Wolf; and recently had my first chapbook published by Finishing Line Press, entitled Ever. Poetry can speak a different language from prose; a more close to the chest communication. I like to write about things that move me.