I’ve never seen my father cry. This is surprising because he’s not one of those “boys don’t cry” sorts and never scolded us for tears. With four small boys running around the house, he saw ours almost daily as […]

It was a fall day, not cold but cool… a brisk and breezy day, full of that feeling you have when a peppermint melts in your mouth and your nose suddenly wakes up. Except this feeling affects your entire body, […]

Annette Boushey Holland is the 1st place winner winner of Streetlight’s 2016 essay/memoir contest.

My last year of elementary school, at the end of the 50s, was also the end of my family’s life in Washington D […]

Jennifer Cox is the 2nd place winner of Streetlight’s 2016 essay/memoir contest.
Until I was six I was loud and my eyes lit up and family was everyone everywhere. Then my cousin Jeffrey died, and it took a year f […]

K. Douglass Hopkins, DMV, is the 3rd place winner of Streetlight’s 2016 essay/memoir contest.
I sighed as I loaded my duffle into the Trooper, reluctant to leave for a long weekend at the emergency veterinary […]

I’ve always known that what I love can disappear.

When I was three, I fell asleep on the subway, head on my father’s lap, my stuffed green bunny clutched in my arms. One instant I slept; the next, Daddy rou […]

HELP, I’m roiled in moil, chaos on every side of me. My life flashes before my eyes, although the only thing I’m drowning in is the sorting of minute particulars. It’s a cautionary tale.

Some time ago (has it […]

August 10, as my friend, Wikipedia, tells me, what is often called (by historians and other interested parties)  “the Second Revolution” occurred in France, when the mob stormed the Tuileries Palace, effectively […]

On this day (June 22) in 1558, the French took possession of the French town (or province), Thioville, from occupying English forces. This was a pretty important battle — for both the French and the English — […]

Sky Pond is one of the more popular destinations in Rocky Mountain National Park. Perhaps you’ve been there. The trail ascends through heavily traveled Glacier Gorge, past the Loch, then curves through a large, s […]

The following is reblogged from Charlotteville’s C’ville Niche (check it out!). Jean Sampson is a past contributor to Streetlight, both in poetry and art — and we appreciate her! Hope you enjoy hearing more. […]

The 21st annual Virginia Festival of the Book opens in Charlottesville this coming Wednesday, March 18. I do recommend it. An amazing assortment of programs will be offered. Find the whole wonderful schedule at […]

Well, it’s over, the most important day of winter, Groundhog Day. And it’s still winter. How come? The groundhog, after being widely noticed, has gone back to sleep, which seems like a really good idea.

Here in […]

The other day I was remarking to somebody that I’d been doing my Christmas shopping and found the stores seemed not to be playing so much Christmas music lately. I’d been to the mall and I hadn’t really noticed […]

And you know I don’t mean Thanksgiving. Or Christmas. You do know that, right? I notice that the newspapers, the internet, the TV, are all full of stories about the seasons coming, by which they mean Thanksgiving […]

This coming Saturday Charlottesville’s  WriterHouse will host its own special segment of an international event in which poets all over the world will be gathering in a spirit of global uplift. The […]

No longer just “cumen in” summer is with us, all reds and greens and gold (did I leave out anything?) Oh yeah, and the latest issue of Streetlight. Soon to appear in these very pages. As it were. We’re all […]

A discussion of place continued.

One of the distressing things about place is the way places are always disappearing. It’s an odd thing to think about – or at least, I think it’s odd. That may be because I g […]

Thanks, Jim

This is by way of being a thank-you note to Jim Bundy, whose excellent blog of April 28, this year, so well demonstrated what it is to think metaphorically on the subject of street light. The […]

I used to think the school at which I taught should have been named Rodney Dangerfield High because nobody got any respect.

Oppressive rules treated students like babies. Weapons checks regarded them as […]