Author: Merrie Dail

  • And The Word Went Out

    Her worn collar long faded and stained used to be hot summer pink with lime-colored palm trees dancing ‘round Set against a pale yellow-white coat – she might as well have been wearing diamonds Later came the grass and mud, chocolate (swiped pastry) and a few garden remnants… over time each stain became an embedded…

  • Pacem

    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…

  • Good Friday

    No sun squeezed through the blinds this morning, instead grey skies filled the transom windows dampness settled on the deck rain set in mid-morning – it would be a muted, routine day Morning email changed things when the message arrived I waited to share whatever awaited hoping one click would provide answers bring closure He…

  • Today

    A friend once asked, “What ? makes today different from any other day” But to digress for just a moment I keep struggling with What is a friend? For all the attributes one might scribe on a list – and conversely all the things a friend should / would never do – above all friendship…

  • Joyeux Noël

    At the café overlooking the valley (and the next perched village) locals sit and drink – ask a stranger among them, ‘Why are you here? No one comes to this place even if they know it exists – why are you here?’ Navigating narrow passages (cobbles uneven under foot and slippery when wet) steadied by…

  • Seasons

    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…

  • Drought

    Another summer of drought the Matta, Ni and Po rivers come and go signs noted along the highway At the Rappahannock I become aware how devastating the absence of rain has been there is little evidence a river ever ran through here, but Somewhere to the southeast the Rappahannock gathers its waters once again unto…

  • In The Beginning

    I started to ask myself when did it begin How many days? 365 in most years, so has it been 1,825,000 – or more even science doesn’t know the answer Some would say quantifying things is important even necessary – but Life might be about each moment – how would one possibly find a way…