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CHILD OF GHOSTS
I am a child of ghosts, my parents adopted and birth, all visit me, but only in my dreams, for ghosts prefer the reality that dreams allow. Some say that dreams are not real, but they live in the mind as do every other reality I experience each day, my senses merely inexact lenses for…
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TRAVEL: TWO THOUGHTS
The packed suitcase sits on the futon but neither it nor I are in any hurry to depart. 4 AM in Chicago blanketed in snow is an orange neon painting.
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A CALL
The thing about it is it is so damn quiet I can hear myself think but I can’t think anymore. And I’ll tell you this box is so cold it just leaks air and water has seeped in. Somehow I expected more it isn’t at all what was promised and the stone is not set…
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SOMETHING
There is something gentle about her, a softness, as though she arrived on a gentle breeze, was present before you felt her on the back of your neck, a smile that cast your shadow on the snowy walk. She was often like this, as though knowing she might be an antidote to the harshness of…
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A TURN
He is never certain what to do on days like this one, when the winter takes a particularly nasty turn, the temperature hovers at utter emptiness, and the wind elects to try to enfold everything it can reach in a coat of frost, that bleaches life away. He walks each day, through the nearby park…
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A RIVER RUNS
Once, not long ago, a river meandered through our town. Actually, there was never a river here, and our town is really a small and shrinking city. But the wistful look on your face when I mentioned the river is reason enough to have one. So now I have to move somewhere in Connecticut or…
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A PERFECT MOMENT
A week ago there was a moment that perfectly summed up life, at least as seen by a three-year-old. Three-year-olds know far more than they are given credit for knowing, far more, they are certain, than their parents, and just enough to make their grandparents laugh at the most inopportune moments. It was lunchtime, always…
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EARTH MOTHER
In so many mythologies earth is a woman, a mother, and we arise from within her. The pure and simple logic of this assumption cannot be assailed, for she is the crux of all nature, and as it seems in life, it is all too often the males that lay siege and wage wars that…
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CONTINUO
The dolphin knows precisely when to feed when to bless the day when to swim south feels the pull of the tides. Each day at noon he walks across the factory floor around lathes, shavings, and up the metal staircase into the small office its windows overlooking the shop floor and pushes the red button…
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A PLACE OF MONOLOGUES
The cemetery is a place of monologues, family histories laid bare, admissions, secrets long kept hidden finally revealed You must listen carefully, for the voices speak only in hushed tones, befitting both place and circumstance. There is no dialog, no riposte, no response for in this place, that would be put of place, censorious, Thy…
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