• Missing

    Monday, May 9, 2016 3 Permalink 0

    I thought I saw him this week - impossible, I thought, but it was his spitting image. Lanky lean C was standing there for a moment at a market stall, silver-haired and self-satisfied, leaning forward, selecting artichokes from a bin. Always looking ahead to a superior home-cooked dinner. Of course it was just a man from the same ...

  • Days longer

    Thursday, February 18, 2016 0 Permalink 0

    All this change we waited for so long now rumbling downhill like an avalanche this midwinter. And we thought it would be great to have everything new and rearranged, and corrected, settled at the bottom, aligned to gravity. But you know what? Jobs, car and house, winter is still gray winter, after the holidays pass, and change is only a cycle. The moment you get it, you wait for more. I can think ...

  • On the shortest day

    Tuesday, December 22, 2015 0 Permalink 0

    Dewdrops hang at surprisingly regular intervals on the red willow branches this morning. In spring the color will soften to pink, but for now, like the weak smudge of sun refined into a single strong spark of light in each cold drop, the stems in winter, reduced, concentrated, tend toward dazzling red, set against gray. It takes me some time to realize that ...