We Are Here: Collected Poems

I have found nothing.
Nothing, in fact, found me.
Everything is here.


This haiku is both epigraph and epilogue. I revisited all of the pieces between them as I prepared this book. Some of them were written in the last couple of years, and some from within the last ten or so years. In one case, one poem was written over fifty years ago. I recognize myself in these poems and prose pieces across all those years, trying to make sense of it all, trying to come to terms with the profundity of being alive, the profundity of gain and loss that belongs to us all.

I am glad you are here. I hope, between epigraph and epilogue, you see something of yourself, something that gives you strength. And that you see me, as well, as someone here in the world and the wonder, in the bewilderment and the horror, alongside you. —G.H.

Greg Hart lives in Tucson, Arizona. He has two sons, Abraham John and Nathaniel Joseph; three daughters by choice and good fortune, Alexa, Megan and Rosario; three grandchildren, Tallulah, Eli, and Alex; two brothers, Matthew and Douglas; a sister and a brother by another mother, Susan and Gerald; a mother and brother by marriage, Jo Margaret and Craig; and many other beloved friends and family.