On such
a May morning
thoughts of New England beckon
Open windows
shaded by large, old trees
sun
filtering through the leaves
cool, breezy, fresh
no overt fragrance
like Savannah further south
Too soon
June will bring us
to our senses
air conditioners will drone
blocking all feel and
sounds of the outdoors
Heat and humidity will
hang
in the air
as we hang
between north and south
Door closed Maisie bounded from behind the sofa fresh with the scent of winter we measure the days and hours in Maisie time Locked in the moment he shrugged off a scraped and bloodied face – oblique commentary on a parallel universe Mud and grass stains are part of the game – then bundled to…
August hangs heavy in the air uncomfortably cloaking all who venture outside August forced open its eyes later this morning than yesterday labored breathing hissing over soon ssooooon (I found a cicada lying silent in the street on my morning walk today) What happened to May’s sweet promise the glittering dance of June July’s sultry…
Little people in furry clothes
In winter the blackest of nights cloak the heavens exploding their brilliance Millions of unseen shards fall earthward through the atmosphere – the air so dense, it takes one’s breath away At first light gnarled and scattered waste of seasons past glisten for a moment under last night’s carpet of frost – Soon, all will…
Starting at the river Abercorn charts its course through the Historic District Victorian District, into Ardsley Park where 20th century takes hold and on past bungalows of the fifties and sixties Derenne marks the break where past and present meet the world to the right across the intersection – anachronistically into the sky – rises…
December had barely finished spelling out its name, yet huge, wet snowflakes silently …