James Tipton

James Tipton (1942-2018) kept bees and wrote poems in Fruita, Colorado, for several years, he lived mainly in the mountain village of Chapala in Mexico. His work was widely published, including credits in The Nation, South Dakota Review, Southern Humanities Review, The Greensboro Review, Esquire, Field, and American Literary Review. In 2005 he moved to Chapala, Mexico where he mentored promising writers. He died at home on May 16, 2018, two weeks after the publication of his last collection of poems,The Alphabet of Longing and Other Poems.

These Awkward Efforts To Be Alive

These awkward efforts to be alive,

to wade through our own debris

toward shore, toward other people,

we take too seriously.

Our ships wreck, and we survive;

our hearts stolen by pirates

are not ransomed; but we

cannot weep forever for these lost things.

The sea, not the ship, is our mother.

The waves are never clumsy.

They know when to break,

when to give up, when to go back.

— James Tipton