La Vie Quotidienne

  • Beach Glass

    Tumbled by the ocean through a sea of sand sharp edges begin to break Larger surfaces slowly acquire a brushed satin appearance trapping the light inside and the edges finally wash smooth Not unlike a cherished memory locked in the heart and softened by time

  • Commonality

    Yes it’s true we are very different you and I. The ‘Dot and the Line’ reincarnate our list of differences could surely go on forever. See how our physical features don’t favor one another in the least And yet we were thinking the same thing at the same moment lying there on the blanket as…

  • Walking

    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 Enemy Within

    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…

  • Grounded

    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…

  • Mid-Summer Nights

    The day’s hot breath lingered forcing fireflies out of the grass. Soundlessly they rose – rising blink-ing rising – pausing in the trees, slowly charting their way ever upward. Occasionally we’d catch one in an old jar, while grownups sat in lawn chairs and chatted. Mostly we just ran around small, thin arms o  u…

  • Irony

    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…

  • August

    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…