Tag Archives: William Pearse writer

Arabesque No. 2 in G major

Posted on April 19, 2018 by

At last the rain stopped, and the fog set down on the tallest trees. Their shoulders were slung low from the weight of it all, and the morning street lamps were on their last shift. But the birds sang as … Continue reading →

Posted in prose, writing | Tagged , , , , | 2 Comments

Music for airports

Posted on April 14, 2018 by

At the far end of the couch, where the dog waits for us when we’re gone, I laid my book and my head down and looked outside at the gray and the green. We were still on east coast time, … Continue reading →

Posted in Memoir, prose, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , , | 27 Comments

Iceland spar

Posted on April 13, 2018 by

Friday, April 13 Allentown, PA Between me and the homeless guy the table remained open the whole time I sat at the Starbucks. I wrote and watched him from the corner of my eye stirring his coffee. Three regulars at … Continue reading →

Posted in Memoir, parenting, prose, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , , | 15 Comments

Killing the Tree of Heaven

Posted on April 10, 2018 by

We went back to the east coast by way of Newark, and though it was spring break we made the kids wear coats, and I packed a scarf. We got a rental car and drove to my grandmother’s house in … Continue reading →

Posted in Memoir, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 30 Comments

Sonata in C major, “rites of spring”

Posted on April 3, 2018 by

Spring cleaning comes when I just can’t take it anymore. All the cobwebs we haven’t seen, the dust, the feeling the whole house smells. Everything needs to be taken apart and blown out. A half pot of coffee followed by … Continue reading →

Posted in humor, Memoir, parenting, writing | Tagged , , , , , , , , | 16 Comments

Crow call for April

Posted on April 2, 2018 by

The chicken brined and so did I, in a solution of salt, memories and music. That Easter in France with Rob and Paul roasting the lamb — then the one 30 years ago I had to work at the drug … Continue reading →

Posted in Memoir, prose, writing | Tagged , , , , , | 15 Comments

Love and work (and when it doesn’t work out)

Posted on April 1, 2018 by

Crossing into April, Dawn and I were getting ready to be married. But the weather had been so nice every weekend for three weekends straight, we worried our luck wouldn’t hold out. All of us met at a lodge in … Continue reading →

Posted in identity, Memoir | Tagged , , , , , , , | 18 Comments