I am hungry for closeness, emotional and physical. I am hungry, but it’s OK. This is a lean time, a time to fast. I subsist on the breadcrumbs I pick here and there.
And here you show up with what appears like food. It smells nice. It looks nice. It’s so close, I can feel the warmth and can’t resist taking a bite: it’s tasty.
But I know it’s poison. And you know that, too. How can you not?
The picture was taken in Oxford, early Spring
The man-made wall is (presumably) ancient, solid, dead. The tree, the sky, the bird are light and transient.
In response to The Daily Post’s weekly photo challenge: “Half and Half.”
“I am so incredibly lucky”, I thought, having scaled the last hill, Santa Clara Ave to Monterey Blvd, only 3 downhill miles of the City Loop left, and it wasn’t even noon yet. Continue reading “Another Perfect Saturday. Showing Up”
It’s a beautiful sunny day in May. I am seven and a half years old. My first year of school is almost over. We had the finals last week, and now it’s just day trips, games outside, and going over the summer homework. I am the best at reading in my class, because I can read 120 words a minute, measured by a little cute sand clock. Continue reading “So Many Colors and So Much Beauty”
Who Cares about Cases!
“Do you have any children?” dot asks as we idle on the edge of the dance floor.
I stare at him: “I??” Continue reading ““Do I??” A Post about Cases, Blues, and Brains”
Love letters understated 