Where you are now, the only lights are stars and oil lamps flaring on vine-covered porches. Where you are now, it must be midnight. No one has bothered to name all the roads that overlook the sea. The freshened air smells of myrtle and white jasmine. A church stands on the headland, and I hope it
G. E. Patterson
Poet, critic, and translator G. E. Patterson grew up along the Mississippi River and was educated in the mid-South, the Midwest, the Northeast, and the western United States.
His collections of poetry include To and From (Ahsahta Press, 2008), and his first book, Tug (1999), won the Minnesota Book Award.
Patterson's awards include fellowships from the Bread Loaf Writers Conference, Cave Canem, the Djerassi Foundation, the MacDowell Colony, and the Minnesota State Arts Board.
After living in the Northeast and on the West Coast, he now makes his home in Minnesota, where he teaches.