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THE SKY DEMANDS
He stopped his walk along the country roadand stared up at the moonless sky.He knew he shouldn’t be doing so, just ashe knew we had no choice but to do so.The stars this far from the city were sodifferent than the city stars, somuch brighter, so much hotter, he saidto no one, infinitely hotter out…
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UNDER FOOT
Okay, let’s get some things straight once and for all. I don’t live in a shoe. It’s a work of modern architecture, a quite normal if unusual looking home,, and if you imagine it shoe-like, so be it. I’m not old, I’m 45, but with eight kids I am prematurely gray. It wasn’t broth I…
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CORAGYPS ATRATUS
They sit on the barren tree staring at what we cannot fathom. They are strangely beautiful creatures and utterly odd looking as well. Their black plumage is entrancing, more so when put on display by extended wings. But inevitably it is their head and neck that draws the eye. Gray against the ebony of their…
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KYIV
From the moment it began, we knew, it wasobvious that peace and freedom were under assault,Russia had thrown societal norms to the wind. Under gunmetal gray skies they attacked by air,killing women, children, destroying hospitals, homesraining hell on the innocents with nowhere to turn.All we could do was watch, pray and offer paltry aidin the…
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FOR RAIN
The clouds build slowly, turning the sky from blue to ever darkening shades of gray. He hopes it will rain, rain heavily, as the ground is parched, the wetland a bog, and the birds have moved on in search of water. He watches the build up, the clouds accreting, and he waits for the first…
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NIGHT APPROACHES
The clouds this eveningare the deep gray that so longto be black, but the retreatedsun just below the horizonlingers long enough to deny them. The space, shrinking, betweenthe clouds, is the gray of promisethat the night will soon deny,and the birds who take overthe preserve, chant their vespers,each in his or her own language,uncommon tongues…
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I WANT
I want the sky to be that certain crimsontinged with burnt sienna and cinnabar,but today winter is holding swayand the sun sneaks off behindthe gray wall from which it only peeked,and left the day one of grayscalewhere intensity replaced beautyand even the cardinal opted to stayhigh in the spruce, offeringonly an occasional glint of red.We…
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ISLANDS
You have no sense of being on an island standing on the corner waiting for the light, caught cursing those who block the box. It is odd having to look up to see the sky, gray on this day, but here the horizon is only chrome, glass and stone. It is only from the 45th…
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CORNFLOWER
This morning, as I do most mornings, I took my paints and painted the sky blue. Today for some reason, I opted for Cornflower, it seemed to fit my mood and the neighbors cat, after considering it for a few moments seemed to agree with my choice, though she suggested tomorrow might be better served…
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THIS IS HOW WE MOURN
This is how we mourn: we don’t berate the clouds for gathering, nor begrudge the rain’s ultimate descent. Our tears fall to the earth as well, and there are moments when we need the gray, moments when the sun would be an unwelcomed interloper. This is how we mourn: we wipe the walls clean of…
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an old writer and his words 