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WINTER TWO VIEWS
The small dog frolics in the snow — now appearing from, now disappearing into clouds of flakes, while his master stands in the door cursing winter. As the temperature slides below zero, even the snow imagines itself a wave cresting onto a South Florida beach.
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VISIONS
The small child peers through the bamboo poles of the bridge as he stares down at a turtle who stares up at him with equal fascination. His mother excitedly says, “see the turtle?” Of course he can see the turtle but he also sees an Ichthyosaurus and giant whales and frightening fish. Later, as she…
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THE BEAUTY OF DREAMS
The beauty of dreams is the plasticity of the mind when it passes the margin into sleep. As the new reality takes hold places and people are allowed to morph, the subconscious becomes sculptor, creating what never was from what is, writing the script, editing it, and all in real-time, the last act to be…
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MOTHER
I called my mother the other day and she did not answer, which she would always do when I called. The dead, I concluded, no longer play by the rules they did when they were still alive. Of course she will call me soon, disrupting my sleep, and chastise me for not trying again.…
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SEA-ING
He believes he would like the ocean, imagines standing on the shore watching as the waves wash up to his feet, and as quickly retreat, smoothing the sand. He has never seen the ocean, only ponds and on large lake, but he imagines the ocean is just a giant lake with bigger waves. He would…
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NIGHTHOUGHTS
like a house of cards it folds slowly inward, falling on itself, sliding downward until all that is left is the memory of what was supposed to be and a dream standing in isolation
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STAR WALKER
His brother said that if you left the windows open at night, the ghosts would come in and might steal your soul. He didn’t care, he wanted to hear the song the stars sang every night, to see them come down and move in pairs across the mesa, for stars, he knew turned orange when…
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SLOW TIME
Time slows inexorably with the approach of sleep, the other world prepared for arrival as the awakened world falls away into ashes. Some say it is all dreams, but they have their own reality until they, too, retreat in the face of the great rising Bird that precedes the morning sun.
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REMEMBERED
She said she recalled the spilled glass of wine that stained her white linen blouse. She said the city swallows people like a hungry beast that will never be sated. I taste the summer sun and the sweetness of an early rain in the Shiraz that foretells approaching winter. The city is a cat that…
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AFLOAT
Dreams are the gentle sea across which we float as night embraces us. This is the preferred view, but in the stormy dark our dreams turn violent tossing us against thoughts we have long suppressed. It is how we row, how we ride he swells, searching for the calm on the horizon that allows…
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an old writer and his words 