Tiny bird
inside his breast pocket
you are like the
young three-footed buck
and squirrel laying in the rain
with a broken hip
Science cannot heal all
should we have left you to die?
Young buck once jumped
with a grace man never could
squirrel – laughed with a zest unmatched
How does your heart sustain itself?
Cradling you in my hands
you seem like an earthly angel
Some people are like that.
This boy speaks through all the depths of my being – not my heart he carries away but the We leaving such an ache. The distance tearing us again and again into him. me. Sliding between our two worlds I am more – and less than before we met. Once other hands protected me Walking…
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…
After reaching the waterfront she settled on the old concrete bulkhead next door I at the end of the dock Maisie rested against my hip as Fox and I regarded each other from a suitable distance A few water birds passed lazily overhead but did not disturb And so we sat ignoring, and wondering about…
While there are always tasks to be completed meals to be prepared appointments to be kept It isn’t really the litany of ongoing daily existence that sometimes feels too much Happily, life goes on no matter what never being off duty is the biggest challenge Relief comes only late in the evening one day waning,…
Against the antique oak rocker in the alcove leans a needlepoint begun decades ago (18th century American primitive re-created in my hand and style with woolen yarns and carefully selected stitches) Cart roads lead from the ‘big’ house, past out buildings and wild vines heavy with grapes (Norton?) – down at the river, a sailing…
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…