at a bed and breakfast in the Catskills,lost somewhere between 1985and a lump of sorrow in the throat,there it was on the plate:little edible pink petals,next to the fresh scrambled eggs: local cluckers and garden bountyserved by a man whodrifted through timeand opened his houseto the likes of us: two idiotswho later came back withaContinue reading “Bee Balm”
Tag Archives: Memory
Azalea
I can still hear her voicetalking about them, bloominglike a bright gentle flowerfrom the bushes along the greens and fairwayssweet and slow as asouthern afternoon, spiced uplike the wine-soaked pork chopsand etouffet she loved to make I can still feel her hands,floral with lotion and softas butterfly’s wings, plusalmost as fragile,navigating the click ofknitting needlesContinue reading “Azalea”
A Pair of Italian Sonnets
Pristine Sistine: at the Vatican I walked and walked through halls of wondertil at last I reached the endwhere God’s own voice resounds like thunderfrom images well known as friends In awe beneath that gorgeous ceilingsequestered as a holy choiceoverwhelmed with thoughts and feelingsbrought back to earth by recorded noise Quiet! and No pictures, please!LoudlyContinue reading “A Pair of Italian Sonnets”
Tarantula
ng-legged hairy creepy crawly minding its own business on the dry ground. Long-legged hairy creepy crawly held up on a stick to be examined closely. Long-legged hairy creepy crawly interrupted! ….
Paris Postcard
If I sent you a postcard
from the Tuileries
a real old-fashioned lick-stamp affair. . . .