What it takes is not thought but action, rejecting the snooze button, flowing in a a soft pocket of warmth into the early morning chill. The silver diamond-patterned food cart on the sidewalk puffing its essential oniony fumes and kaleidoscope reflecting a new sun. Gone is the summer air, which incubates into stew of nothingness. AutumnContinue reading “AUTUMN MORNINGS IN PHILADELPHIA”
Tag Archives: memoir
THE DAY’S LAST MINUTES
Certain of nothing now but smiling and the pup, sighing tired sighs in my lap. Possibility of the day’s last minutes growing limp like wilted radish greens. What I could start and not finish haunts me. Dinner was invented, destroyed, and the dishes speak of a modern, though pointless porcelain sculpture. And isn’t that theContinue reading “THE DAY’S LAST MINUTES”
fog up the windows 