freshly washed pavement shines, unfamiliar depth to its color, as damp earthiness rises from the planters full of bright geraniums, almost red, almost orange – a chill in the air invigorates as I fall in step with the crisp click-clacking of purposeful feet moving down the sidewalk to a breakfast companion’s embrace or to a […]
Today I sit in my usual place, sipping tea and watching the passers-by.
Within these walls, I live in the safety of the past, everything faded and known. Muffled voices come through the crackle of an old radio, narrating a brown-and-tan world of well rehearsed dance and drama.
As I peer through the sagging window, nothing threatens, nothing surprises. The memorabilia of past joys collect dust on a nearby shelf, comforting reminders of love, belonging, and home. From this vantage point I can participate in the present at a distance (only I must ignore the cracks that might let in a beam of something new).
It is safe, yes, and also numbingly familiar. Continue reading “The Sepia Room”
Cold and inexorable,
a thief of what is rightfully his own:
that which I have come to love.
Home and space and constellations of people,
While the stars stay put
for generations to wish on.
Continue reading “Friend or Foe?”