We never
wanted two cats
and a dog
the white picket fence
and the station wagon
The world
waited just over the horizon
Odd
isn’t it how
our fondest memories
are of kids and dogs
two old cats rule
we no longer need
yet have
two station wagons
all a part of
creating a place called home
What about that white picket fence?
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…
Young and very much in love I’d often be overcome by emotion unable to express the depth and breadth of all that was swirling inside Sometimes finding words – though not the right ones I stumbled over them all the reasonable response rarely emerged Less than articulate and reduced to tears (happy tears, sad tears…
There was something magical – and fragile – about the tissue papers on which we corresponded (marked PAR AVION) and the interminable weeks between each letter Post World War II the world was trying to rebuild, heal we (Yukiko and I) were part of that process – two children: one Japanese, one American Our shared…
Funny isn’t it how late afternoon is also early evening and is (just as surely) – night – depending on the time of year In the scrapbook…
1 June Journey back home it all began in California. before we left. Hope Remember when the world was not big enough and somedays were only whispered musings on a summer evening? what made this place any different from a hundred other places? Feelings of anticipation and uncertainty we are finally going home. a little…
Love is a place Balmy days blinding storms times of vigor – and drought Sometimes we choose love sometimes, love chooses us I have never fully understood it. For some, love is less a matter of choosing it is just the place where one lives There are people who seem to float through life untouched…