Black balusters and mahogany stairs lead gracefully to a parquet second floor landing. Decades of voices carried the water of words to this quiet circular elegance surrounded by bookshelves and photos of New York and Paris. Gold painted plaster moldings wrap the area like decorative ribbons. It all speaks with identity and belonging; above there … More GRACEFUL
From the open door I pass daily on the Rue des Lombards lined with lilac bushes, I lean to the sound of a piano; I pause with curious ears. Athletic fingers prompt the song to spill unwrapped to me, circling like a scarf, holding my thoughts, catching me out of breath. The mouth … More RUE des LOMBARDS
From the open door I pass daily on the Rue des Lombards lined with lilac bushes, I lean to the sound of a piano; I pause with curious ears. Athletic fingers prompt the song to spill unwrapped to me, circling like a scarf, holding my thoughts, catching me out of … More RUE des LOMBARDS
A willing sax throws out notes like hungry fishermen with long lines of baited hooks into deep swirling waters where souls swim as the wiggling masses tread close with thirsty ears and anxious hands breaking hard the surface calling them that want as eyes go wide and feet twist under shouldered sways while … More WHERE SOULS SWIM
Out of Tangiers the fragrance followed. A stack of letters bound with a blue ribbon, wait for the seeds of their thoughts to be watered when their words are read. Suits with ties and jackets unzipped. The conversation moved onto paper with broken pencils until 2am; sleep can wait. Cold water and a third floor … More PARIS HOTEL
