• SAVANNAH DREAMS

    Slide between the sheetsexhausted after a day of walkingthe streets of this old city.This is a city of squares, statuestoo many to fully recall, eachone’s history unknown to most,and with the slowly falling rainto remain unknown to us.Despite its age and great beautythis is a tourist city, one whererestaurants don’t take reservationsknowing their tables will…


  • SEASIDE

    The ocean wind sweeps through the citya sudden rain washes sidewalk, shop, and street,carries both dreams and sins back to the sea. For the young child time slides by easily,life a campaign that allows no retreat.The ocean wind sweeps through the city, rattles church windows, so that all can seethe priest stripped of dogma. Christ…


  • MADE IN

    You learn to shop carefully,always searching for wherean item is made, avoiding placesyou know are not socially responsible. The search is complicatedby the lack of nearby stores,by the ubiquity of Amazon,by the certainty that the productwon’t arrive for some time,and when you find oneyou like, you scroll downand see the magic buzzword“Imported” and you knowfrom…


  • ILL SUITED

    My father wanted to takeme to buy my first suit, saidhe knew a tailor who couldfashion one perfect formy pending Bar Mitzvah,a nice wool blend, he said. Mother about threw a fit.“Take him to the departmentstore or even Goodwill,for God’s sake, he’s onlygoing to wear it once.” My father had learnedthat some battles are bestleft…


  • SHE

    She surely should have known better. Selling sea shells by the sea shore is a short sighted career path. Anyone can pick up the shells on the seashore, selling shells is simply silly, and she should see that. But each day she sets up her stand, sets out the shells, and sits waiting to see…


  • A SIMPLE CHOICE

    It is a simple choice, she said,bicycles or a cat. I wanted to tell her thatthere are no simple choicesin the middle of a pandemic,and those that seem that way,to mask or not, to shop or notcan be life or death choices. I thought about the optionsfor a few moments, rememberedthe cats I still mourn…


  • LATTE

    At the coffee shop they chatter as if in some foreign tongue, conversations overlaid one on another on another, until all I can strain are snippets of words, stray syllables. This is true everywhere I have visited, and it promises good coffee, for I have found that when I can easily eavesdrop on others at…


  • TOKYO MEMORIES

    1. An older, silver-haired woman in neon green pants, a brown blouse and black shop apron stoops and carefully scrubs the alleyway outside her small shop. 2. Salarymen fill the tunnels of Kokkai-gijidomae station at 6 P.M., 7, 8, and in fewer numbers, 9, shuffling down the long corridors to the Chiyoda or Marunouchi Line trains,…