bobbing for apples

my daughter is describing India the contours of its shoreline and just like that I'm off to the backwaters of my brain searching for the capital to impress her there, forgotten facts float like waxy apples, resisting my efforts to retrieve them thrashing in the dark scattering this way & that until, triumphantly– New Delhi!... Continue Reading →

dog blessing

we avoid eye contact on the predawn sidewalk the stranger and me at a crossroads– sprinklers, too close have forced an impasse and his dog, lacking etiquette licks my hand, warm tongue a shock to my cold heart a blessing

The Big Bang

God shattered like a flawless vase crashing into the ground a trillion crystalline fragments piercing the empty, black heavens and seeding the soul of every living thing: creatures of the deep, birds of the air, the animals and man, who has grown gray with doubt, red with anger fashioning the shimmering shard of his heart... Continue Reading →


for Micetro it does not seem fair that Micetro should die in Spring as the boxwoods are greening and the driveway warming for an afternoon nap who will sit with me on these cool April evenings to gaze at the silent moon? I will miss his white face watching me from the black mulch his... Continue Reading →

Curtain Call

tonight, my son is king of the birds in his last middle school play a noble black hawk with outstretched wings and gentle eyes whose ever watchful gaze is not unlike our own his mom and I holding hands in the dark knowing one day soon he will fly away


your hands are raised through the moonroof small, sure wings on rushing wind you are smiling, raving about choir practice singing me show tunes from bygone movies my hands are at 10 and 2 eyes fixed on the darkening road it's my job to steady the car while you soar among the stars


today, the snarling sky is black as hate the fractured clouds crumbling in angry heaps but take heart a rainbow kneels before us— beauty, our strength and our refuge


it's March and the white sun is a soft pearl, veiled behind a swath of bluegray here below the fields are empty the trees, inscrutable there is nothing much to see so, close your eyes open your ears, listen-- in the stillness you will hear a whispered warble in the distance

self portrait

I had hoped to be an intellectual to astound all with my impressive grasp of the French Revolution, the Second Viennese School and James Joyce But I am a sieve knowledge pouring through pooling for a moment then retreating in a swirl into the inner expanse irretrievable So, there's nothing left to do but peel... Continue Reading →

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