Didn’t understand
but listened
built an ark
loaded animals two by two
Cold, wet
smelly, nauseating
crowded, stifling
drifting, drifting
day after day, two by two
Rain stopped
water receded
everyone disembarked
slowly
life began again
Seeds and flowers
sun and rain
nurturing and time to grow
Two by two
As we reach the shores of a new year
remain steadfast in times of uncertainty
and set aside time to nurture one another.
One by one bright colors rise silently into the sky Each evening throughout the summer it is the same: boys and men and their kites drawn to the empty beach A few kites soar and dive recklessly only to crash in the water or lay lifeless on the sand – others seem to strain against…
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 –…
How far? I ask (is the ocean) whenever we are somewhere the ocean is not – often comes the reply “not far..” (Perhaps a few hour’s or a day’s drive) ‘Not far’ is a distance measured on the scent of a breeze something palpable in the atmosphere in fog rolling across the land ‘Not far’…
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…
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…
Words come framed, measured, controlled – ‘I have some bad news” how else is there to say it? Bad news is always bad I answer in kind (and it is never enough) how else is there to respond? and we reflect, philosophize (chase guilt?) we are adults Long ago December my father lay, dying of…