Je vois une femme
mais, je ne peut pas voir
ce qu’elle voit
(sitting alone in the garden)
I cannot
know what she feels
or is thinking
Have her thoughts been
carried up into le ciel
by a passing coccinelle, or
is she planted
firmly on the ground
dans sa chaise, lost
In the pleasure of the moment
Who knows?
One by one bright colors rise silently into the sky Each evening throughout the summer it is the same: boys and men and their kites drawn to the empty beach A few kites soar and dive recklessly only to crash in the water or lay lifeless on the sand – others seem to strain against…
I love the sense of freedom and quiet the sights sounds and smells that I experience on an early morning walk Rabbits silently lope from spot to spot in search of breakfast an old dog greets us from well within his castle gates Occasionally someone else is also up and walking usually (like me) with…
The rains passed around midnight along with any remnants of fall Thirty degrees below normal this morning Sky so blue it hurts the eyes – and windy Outside the skylight several birds soared. No not birds. leaves – carried above the treetops tossing in the upper currents, while sun glanced off their shapes to complete…
My daughter says ‘Mother Earth always wears a watch’ How does She know what color to paint the sky? or when to quiet nature’s sounds? Absentmindedly she reaches for a bunch of colored pencils.
Sun’s first rays pick at the blinds teasing them open just a little then its long fingers stretch across the room and tickle my face Outside the world moves in slow motion gulls doze on a diamond sea whose only movement is a ripple as it turns over in its sleep A few birds lazily…
Planning a return to France began in January – a far reach from youth, when ‘the plan’ was nothing (but) a plane ticket, suitcase and love As winter ebbed and Spring came into bloom I deleted items from my list: étudier la langue (at the top) confirm passports, airline tickets technology requirements to stay in…