Runner1928 via Wikimedia Commons. License:CC BY-SA 3.0 Photo: Runner1928, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons I have no words for the strangeness I sawthat day in the lake or the monstroussadness it rose in me. What I know is after Iheard the sigh of a splash, two...
Photo: AlexiusHoratius, CC BY-SA 4.0 , via Wikimedia Commons Dawn in Poughkeepsie should not be underestimated. When you come from a place that is no place in particular, you don’t own the pen that writes towns off. I was not granted Brooklyn’s dry wit or Santa Fe’s...
Photo: Beyond My Ken, CC BY-SA 4.0, via Wikimedia Commons 1.Every bodypersists in its stateof rest or somnambulantmotion unless awakenedby a force.Only in the clinch instant, the fluttering lids,the unexpected reversal,a life is jerked awake. 2.At the level of...
I imagined the festival – scenic whirl on the great wheel,holding hands and swiveling to watch the white corona reflect in Baltic waters beneath the Hörnbrücke. I believedoutside our window keelboats would compass us to city center, where we would dance through...
A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte / Painting by Georges Seurat Your eyes are languid. Look at the trees and see the hazy dappling of the leaves. Look at the river and see the unmixed points of periwinkle, lapis lazuli, Aegean blue. Who are these...
Photo: Sailko, CC BY 4.0 , via Wikimedia Commons In the tropical butterfly house in the gardens of Villa Garzoni there is a piranha. I stand staring for a few moments at the fish with the deadpan face, shimmering reddish yellow scales and huge eyes. I don’t think I’ve...
