Author: admin

Its name etched lightly into the support pillar in front high sideways across vision but barely visible from the distraction of intensely azure blue cut irises. The serving bar two large windows behind and a large glass pitcher...

Four weary tourists slump into chairs at a sidewalk café in the Piazza della Rotunda. A red motor scooter whizzes by nearly hitting a blond toddler chasing a yellow balloon. Honk, screech, mother yells. Dogs bark, people shout,...

“Machines are down.” Muted voices, blank faces, rows of citizens wait. For license renewals bureaucracy rules. No worker says sorry. No coffee, water, cheer. Numbly, the people sit, Old, gray with cane and hearing aids, Young,...

(after Thanksgiving by Aimee Nezhukumatathil) I juggle a can of tomatoes, three limes, and a bag of potatoes. Ahead is he who holds a block of cheddar and a bottle of wine. Broad shoulders face forward, below his clean-shaven...

Like the opening scene in a Broadway play we met, you won’t remember, in a hotel lobby. Blustery cold outside, I’d taken refuge in overstuffed chairs, mahogany tables, paneled walls, low lights. I settled in, ordered wine,...

Thank you for sixty-six years of service, for withstanding a life of bombardment: first it was sugar then drilling and filling but you kept going through one challenge after another, got your crown of enameled glory and fought...

one white face in herd of velvet-black cows, tall goat straight legged on trunk of rusty car rough grey grass, sky thick with lofty clouds hanging over treeless expanse, snow sprinkled brush– April in...

warmish breeze touches bursting new leaves rosebuds emerge from snowmelt and I, wearing new black patent shoes straw hat with yellow cloth daisies and pink cotton candy coat have a good reason to go to church After a career in...

The roadrunner cartoon over, The movie previews done, The lights finally went down, When a tall, looming silhouette, Big and strong like John Wayne, Came up the darkened aisle of the old Ritz Theatre in the spring of 1968, when...

A phonograph on the high-top table and a conductor’s baton. Unless you slide the cabinet door, reach in, you will not guess the favorite record he would play, cueing his invisible orchestra. Still in front, hair-wild Toscanini,...