“The stone sinks, slow, unperturbed
To the river bottom
Where the fishes come to knock on it
And listen.”
– Charles Simic
I too
would be a stone
if only I...
Winter Solstice
We drive in the darkpast the open fieldsinto the neighborhood:Millions of lights on the housesin the trees—the world a-twinkle with hopewhile overhead a...
Street Scene
Early evening heat rises frompavements, from cement and asphalt,carrying a scent slightly sour,slightly acrid—oily and tar-like.
Outside the café, beyond its fenced-intables, a large...
