A plague of snow, fluffy and dry before it hardens and grips the trees, the walls, and the cars parked haphazardly everywhere. When I walk to the little market a few blocks away, it feels like a test of endurance. — Henri Cole Copy Share Image
“We all came from our mothers' bellies. We all have hope in our veins. We don't want history to forget us, but the dead… — Henri Cole Copy Share Image
Over the past 30 years, hand grenades, tanks, fighter jets, missiles, helicopters and assault rifles have replaced traditional floral patterns in rug making and… — Henri Cole Copy Share Image
“Introducing the idea of beauty as a salve and of aesthetics making something difficult accessible.” — Henri Cole Copy Share Image
In French, one can say I am alone or I feel alone but nothing as baldly distressing as I am lonely. — Henri Cole Copy Share Image
“My soft voice and demeanor were useless. In a pint jar, I carried a cremated friend, like flesh scraped from a cistern.” — Henri Cole Copy Share Image
“I'm standing in the lake, forming a whirlpool with my arms, letting the force of atonement pull me into its center until I cannot… — Henri Cole Copy Share Image
In truth, I'm still slightly embarrassed to say, I am a poet. I'd rather say, I make poems. — Henri Cole Copy Share Image
