I REMEMBER

the thickness of night as a cool blanket of air slips onto the yard lifting out a day of warmth   windows shut sweaters appear   a dark lakes surface humbles even the brave   inside cabin lights extinguish like falling stars   night sounds filter through aged screened windows the aroma of pine lingers … More I REMEMBER

A LINE DRAWN

It’s a slow step into cold air; the season twists out a new face. A cat meows at a half moon. Heaven hears the barking of angry dogs. Strands of mist stretch from street lights. Whispers rise from the alley. Window dressings slumber. Libraries welcome closing hours. Rain reduces the burden of clouds. Dead winter … More A LINE DRAWN

GRACEFUL

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

ANCIENT LINES

There is no unhappiness in a stonewall. Its industrial beauty shrugs with humility. Seasonal wars have no effect on its lines. There is nothing porous about it. The stones once buried within ancient soil are like diamonds and pearls, protecting the perimeter of its birthplace. Fortune blesses the license of its presence each day; a … More ANCIENT LINES

AN EMPTY SEAT

It’s a train car without wheels. A gathering for the subculture.  An information center of new and yet to happen. It’s a stopover between this and that.  Art deco, vinyl and stainless steel.  Formica countertops and a bathroom without a lock. A jukebox with failed neon’s struggles in the corner.  Eggs and coffee all day. … More AN EMPTY SEAT

OPEN WALK

From the third story window, traffic below releases a voice. The aroma of warm asphalt, oil and exhaust rises into the space between tired buildings.  People imitate the ants below their feet; swerving to avoid contact. Passing anger remains concealed within; learned by everyone to survive.  Eyes gaze from open windows, scanning the streets and … More OPEN WALK

FROM UP HERE

FROM UP HERE     Shadows run charcoal, flat like iron painted across walls as it spills silently onto a fallowed field suffering from a lack of love.   A blood sun spreads rivers over streets and sides of tired brick buildings.   An emotional wind creates sounds resembling words whispered through fences and back … More FROM UP HERE

The Next Step

A low wind without voice brushed the small third story window where she looked out. The ocean, not far away, lay clam like a lion dreaming of the hunt.   Her bed, unmade.  Covers tossed, evidence of nights trappings and the places in-between.    She whispers a psalm from waking lips.  Coffee completes the eyes … More The Next Step

CANVAS AWNINGS

Satin coated drops of water course randomly off green canvas awnings outside my bedroom window.   A summer morning filled with rumbling and capricious winds stirs me in my warm cotton cocoon.   As I open half dreaming eyes, the aroma of wet grass welcomes me.   The fragrance of coffee wafts through the rooms. … More CANVAS AWNINGS

THE OUT AND IN

Windowsills are portraits of life inside, the evidence of expression with colors and shapes.   Each opening is a signal of suggestion from the person within; chimes, stained glass, children’s art, toothpick stickmen or paper animals.   Windowsills are the eyes of buildings, watching to the “out” while welcoming the “in” with a glance.