roused by silence
Apparently, without cause, there was effect.
Category Archives: Times
Longe das planícies
Did I miss the ripening fields: no
echo
“Shh!” All five fingers of the right hand spread wide, the first touching the lips, the hand a stop sign, the fingers stretched rigid, the hand surprised, the fingers an echo of surprise. Meanwhile, with the left, she reached over and unplugged the radio.
my reflection in the photograph
Several years ago I was “improving” my photo collection, which had become a wobbling tower of kodachrome, balanced precariously
Seasons
Love my last and greatest companion this heaviness will pass… just a salt wind from the ocean stale air before the storm that seems can never break will break I thought once that the source of our creativity was the height of our joy — but then I found it difficult to write …
My Story Yours
"I was born in a suburb outside of Pittsburgh, two blocks off the rail line – before it was abandoned, and then reclaimed for pedestrians and bicycles – so that the 7:45 and the 8:30 made audible bookends to my bedtime, first calling ahead, then calling behind, and finally the stuttered step of the cars …
Will you marry, Charlotte?
A moment arrives and a moment passes, water through your fingers. Beautiful water: touch a drop to your lips, your thirst is lessened; touch a drop to your eyes, they are cleared; touch a drop to your forehead, you are baptized; touch a drop to the soil, the flower grows. From the electric arc of …
Distance, Health and the Life Virtual
Three nights later, and I still have not returned to an east coastal sleep pattern. While it is "only" five time zones away, the body and the mind take in so much information in such travel that the consequences are deeper and broader than the meager mind would care to admit. Some years ago I …
Because you didn’t ask
The memories rise unbidden — they are always rising, bubbles of air surging from the depths to the surface of the sea; or stones borne skyward in similar offering, caught in the slow and seasonal currents of frost in farmer's fields — as if by some anti-gravitational magic, the memories rise out of some ancient …
Water of Life
The beauty of the subtropics — as I experienced them for years in Brazil, and on other journeys far and away… … and now I understand that I was making a home of the Earth, not a home of – Spencer, New York, where I was born at the foot of a minor tree-crowned mountain; …
Departure
The traveler knows: departure is the front side of return. Those who stay behind see only the farewell; and hope for the wave hello. For those who are here, on this side of the journey, I leave our travel information. My regrets to a couple of colleagues, to whom I gave an incorrect return date. …