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ACUITY
Acuity is such a strange word,sharp on the tongue andin meaning, but also a markof what once was, what willnever be again, replaced perhapsby a visual vacuity, comfortableword, no sharp edges, vagueimages floating behind a gauzeseeping slowly into a scrim,knowing the stage will soonenough go dark, despitethe ever brighter lighting.But replaced perhaps byever greater auditory…
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REFLECTIONS
An elk stands at the edgeof a placid mountain lakeand sees only the cloudsof an approaching winter.A black bear leans overthe mirrored surface of the lakeand sees only the fishthat will soon be his repast.The young man drapedin saffron robes lookscalmly into the water and seesa pebble, the spirit of his ancestors.I look carefully into…
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YOU ARE INVITED
I have to compliment you,after all you ignored mefor four years in high school,condemned me to the outcasts,the geeks, the losers, the barelytolerated and then only whenthe Headmaster was watching. I didn’t go to your parties,no one without an invitationever dared, was left to theclubs no one wanted to join,but I have to say I…
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WANDERING NO MORE
In my dreams I wanderedthe alleys of Lisbon searchingfor a familiar face, and manycame close, but no man stopped meand asked if I was, by chancehis son, for he dreamed Iwas what a son of hiswould look like. Now I have no need to wanderfor I know he is ina military cemeteryin Burlington, New Jersey,and…
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STARING
She sits demurely on the stepstaring off at something.You want to know what buther face isn’t saying, her eyessoft, revealing nothing, her smileenticing, teasing, and out of grasp. You want to sit with her, seewhat she looks at, what has capturedher thoughts, and there is roomon the step for you to join her,but you have…
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ETERNAL SPRING
Spring has arrived, however begrudgingly,and the young woman pushesthe older woman’s wheelchairalong the paths of the great park.Neither speaks, but each knowsthis could be the last time they do this.That shared knowledge paintseach flower in a more vibrant hue,each fallen petal is quicklybut individually mourned for,its beauty draining back into the soil.The older woman struggles…
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HOW WOULD I KNOW
It is highly likelythat I snored mostof last night, I cannotbe certain but my wifesays I did and sheis rarely wrongabout such things. I would liketo blame iton my back, discsbulging where theyought not, titaniumrods claiming theyhold the whole thingtogether, but Icannot be certainof that either onceI slip into sleep. I am temptedto stay up…
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FUKE’S BELL SONG 正法眼蔵 二十二
Follow the old fellowwalking over there, hewho cannot seebecause it is too bright,who cannot seebecause it is too darkwho cannot seeabove himself, belowbehind or beside,but traverses the pathwith an unerring foot. A reflection on Case 22 of Dogen’s Shobogenzo Koans (True Dharma Eye)
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TROVE
He says he has founda treasure trove of home movies8mm film in small metal cans,the sprocket holes intactfor the most part, my childhoodI thought captured on 35mm slidesthat I am too cheap to payto have digitized, my adoptiveparents ill at ease with a cameraassuming always back lightingwas preferable, and I admitit was nice to be…
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MY ANNA
Along the banks of the barge canalin the village park, a manolder, his hair white, almosta mane, sits on the breakwallfeeding Wonder breadto the small flotilla of ducks.Tearing shreds of crustfrom a slice, he casts itonto the water and smilesas they bob for the crumbs.He tells them the storyof his life as thoughthey were his…
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an old writer and his words 