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…
Je vois une femme mais, I cannot see what she sees (sitting alone dans le jardin)…
Out on the prairie and down east (along the coast) there are wild ponies, occasionally one sees a sign – DO NOT FEED I took a risk, guided my car roadside, and searched remnants of lunch for the saved afternoon snack Much larger than I imagined I wondered, would he charge, bolt, or bite –…
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…
Dusk along the lane only foundations remained we traced them with our feet stumbling occasionally I stood inside one he – just outside the one next door for one moment music lingered on the warm humid breeze in September of 1941 there was no carnage The old runway evoked pre-dawn mornings the palpable drone of…
Fascinating – high in the sky, flying free (with a safety line that might break and then again maybe not) – an exhilarating place to be. A flyer of kites must have faith to let go and toss it into the wind so it can rise to great heights. To know when to reel it…
Driving up the hill towards the cabin taking stock of our visit so far one chipmunk no deer no bear (taxidermied animals don’t count) Cresting the hill two does stood in the middle of the road paused, then continued over the fence to join a third That night in the rain we sat in rockers…
Starting at the river Abercorn charts its course through the Historic District Victorian District, into Ardsley Park where 20th century takes hold and on past bungalows of the fifties and sixties Derenne marks the break where past and present meet the world to the right across the intersection – anachronistically into the sky – rises…
Sitting on the park bench she said, ‘catch me some sparkles to take home in a jar!’ So when we are far from here on a dark and dreary day I can remember this moment – Smell the tide see again the sun dancing on the water.
Car packed slowly we pull away (from the curb?) Leaving Dog cats, kids sleepless nights final projects, exams sprinkled throughout the city all – left behind and wrapped in the sultry fragrance of an early Savannah morning Off the tree caught in my backward glance I break one bud to take with us Every five…
We drove home sated with gaiety, family, friends and food Beyond the traffic noise lay stifling heat and the silence that tolls the end of summer hundreds of miles rolled by town by city Out the window ‘Korean War Conflict’ hung from the license plate of a passing van I thought of the young couple…
Washington Idaho Montana nothing in every direction. we play with the cats for diversion passing them between our two-car caravan Wyoming breakfast at the Harley and Cowboy truck stop complete with petting zoo buffalo Dakota plains undulate and stretch forever creeping into my consciousness I watch them for a long time – young Indian boys…