Age is creeping up the stone dressed as lichen, paper thin, the delicate rosettes slowly eating into marble skin. A symbiotic work of art ... was that the stone carver’s design— the piece matured by nature’s hand— or had he other plans in mind? In time, too, the scars of mere survival gnaw… Continue reading Lichen on the Stone
Was it wind or trees that whispered quietly, in soothing tones yesterday, when you and I were moving through the park alone? Wind was first--you said, my love-- to start the linden trees talking. Then like beating wings of doves the sound swelled aloft, exalting in a whispering seduction, rustling every high leaf, all their… Continue reading Wind in the Silver Lindens
(The question for my high school reunion) How do I answer a question like this— do I mention the beach I live by, or the trips, or my husband’s success, the kids and grandkids? (If I go to the dinner-dance, what should I wear? Pertinent question: Does anyone care?) Should I mention the… Continue reading What Have You Done in the Last 50 Years?
Before me floats a miracle in white, shimmering like snowfall in the frame of my camera, incandescent light, a peacock of a sort seldom seen. All white feathered tail and breast and face, a vision strutting by the camera field and posing with a fan of Spanish lace. I capture on my film the ethereal.… Continue reading The Other Side of Beauty
The children saw a perfect ladder rather than a twisted tree, but little did it really matter— they ran far ahead of me … the leaning trunk they quickly straddled, riding low across the grass. Mounted neat on horse and saddle off they galloped, fierce and fast. Then their steed turned pirate ship—… Continue reading When Taking Grandchildren to the Cove