Author Archives: Stephanie

About Stephanie

In her spare time, Stephanie works full-time, and then some, as an attorney. She has published articles and delivered talks in arcane fields like forensic evidentiary issues, jury instructions, and expert scientific witness preparation. She also is an adjunct professor at a law school on the banks of the Charles and loves that dirty water, as she will always think of Boston as her home. You are welcome to take a look at her Facebook author page, or follow @SMartinGlennon on Twitter. All content on this blog, unless otherwise attributed, is (c) 2012-2018 by Stephanie M. Glennon and should not be reproduced (in any form other than re-blogging in accordance with Wordpress protocol and the numerous other wee buttons at the bottom of each post) without the express permission of the domain holder.

Sensational Sunrise

Posted on January 12, 2020

  Already in this young calendar year, I have become irrationally upset at having missed a sunrise.  This dazzling world‘s irreproducible morning display. I voiced my sadness to a colleague later that day, telling her how extraordinary the color had … Continue reading →

Posted in Love and Loss | Tagged , , , , | 5 Comments

To the Lighthouses

Posted on January 5, 2020

“She saw the light again. With some irony in her interrogation, for when one woke at all, one’s relations changed, she looked at the steady light, the pitiless, the remorseless, which was so much her, yet so little her, which … Continue reading →

Posted in Love and Loss | Tagged , , , , | 7 Comments

No Lapse of Moons

Posted on November 17, 2019

Winnie-the-Pooh and Alfred, Lord Tennyson. Among a plethora of poets, these two stand out in framing what the “bear of very little brain”–and so much heart–understood as the exquisitely lacerating inseparability of love and grief once the one we love … Continue reading →

Posted in Love and Loss | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 5 Comments

Autumn’s Impalpable Ash

Posted on September 22, 2019

  if I look at the crystal moon, at the red branch of the slow autumn at my window, if I touch near the fire the impalpable ash or the wrinkled body of the log, everything carries me to you, … Continue reading →

Posted in Love and Loss | Tagged , , , , | 2 Comments