Category Archives: Uncategorized

Continuum

“Some beetle trilling its midnight utterance.”   Beetle song opens Denise Levertov’s “Continuum,” a poem of late-summer return.  Returns can be precarious transitions…maybe you’re like me, having come back home with a certain euphoria, having recalibrated by quieting the melancholy news … Continue reading

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Cut Me Loose

How freeing to discover the curious way French acquaintances and friends are judging the US.  Fortunately Trump is not sucking out all the oxygen.  While they despise him, they’re perplexed by this passing nightmare and don’t hold it against us.  … Continue reading

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Summer Bed

The pine prepares a beddropping its needles long and thinas angel’s hair and smooth, each connectedto a partner, toasted like hay or ochreanticipating our autumnal bed though now we lay head to headwatching the summer stars

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Refugees: The Tragedy of Frenemies

I saw a discrete sign for a Memorial to Internment Camps at Rivesaltes, outside Perpignan, France, and finally decided to visit.  Lacking indication, you’d have to know or have a reason to take the plunge. You’d have to choose right … Continue reading

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Le Plus Ça Change…

As the French take to the barricades to figure out what the country is about, one thing they don’t doubt is food. As Eric Delalande, a brilliant chef who traded Madison Avenue for Place des Marchés in Villèsque, a remote … Continue reading

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Blank Space: Bastille Day

What’s not to love? The first lines of the French chalkboard – “Today we celebrate” have been carefully written once. The last line shows traces of previous fêtes, erased and written over. Today’s humble last line, dashed off, ignoring a … Continue reading

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Independence EveryDay

Celebrations Morning wakes hours before its city creatures.I see light through the shutters:cool insides while their clapboards communicate color — hydrangea pink, hydrangea blue —to the morning.  Slate gray street, a herribone brick sidewalk.  Couples inside, coffee darker than their peignoirs.  It’s a holiday.The … Continue reading

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The Poet who mistook a Sunflower for Eve

As the poet must give up control of meaning to the reader, so the abstract painter must let go – rejoice! – in happy (mis)interpretations of her viewers.   After seeing Joan Mitchell’s large canvases (seen here in detail), I … Continue reading

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Genesis, Moonstone Beach

Thanks, Crosswinds Poetry Journal, for publishing this poem in Volume IV !

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What is Mother’s Day without the kids?

Primavera, Senior Yearto Eve As the languorous calm of winter ends,enter gardeners, whirling bees–riotous breakawaySpring. And all the things I wanted to hold onto–a child’s hand, cool as an oboe;lamplight; readingby the window lying in bed with extra pillows,talking to … Continue reading

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