The art is what you can’t explain about why it made you feel the way it did.
prose
Daydream requiem
One day it will be like this for me I thought.
The rain, the rain, the rain
Winter set in like an abscess, like an infection.
Happiness is easy
That jig-saw view of life taken apart, put back together.
Procession
Fine, wet snow falling. Snow like sifting sugar, adding to last night’s on the lawn, filling in the footprints, whitening the paths I shoveled earlier in the drive. How it comes on harder then, how the branches droop from the… Read More ›
We are in the south of France now
It is this time, I think to myself on the couch, that I will want to keep with me forever.
Boy Scouts, coming for the dead
Outside the neighbor’s rhododendron was flapping, the tall trees swaying. We were between fronts. What they call a sun break out here. I remembered the Boy Scouts were coming for the dead Christmas trees but you had to have them… Read More ›
