5 Years of Spring

It had been the perfect spring morning, full of rose-colored light, the air as soft as petals after winter’s extended passing. The apple trees in the garden were thick with white blossoms. The young cherry trees full of dark purplish buds, nearly ready to unfurl. Soon the locust, the linden, the lilacs and chestnuts would burst…Read more 5 Years of Spring

Being Myself

Doubt is part of every word I say. Before the glances congeal into a gaze, I am already formed. A partial. A remnant. Existing to be discarded. How many estimates Must I encounter To meet the one I cannot fall short of?   I fail, I fail, I will fail you Always In your judgement…Read more Being Myself

March, the Death of Winter

Some thoughts on the loose ends of winter: Remnants that scatter. Swept out. Soon to be forgotten. Bared by the persistent cold prove too fragile to stand, neither whole, nor in any semblance of form. A relentless wind, whipping panic, freezing each and every protuberance. Removing the timid, Exposing all that is meager. There is…Read more March, the Death of Winter

Pale Forest

I used to dream of forests, asleep and awake. Dense groves of ancient giants, gilded domes of oak and maple, stands of slender aspens, bearing silent witness, swaying to a breath. Wild, hidden places where life seemed much more alive, at once intense and restorative. Where my outline might be found more cleanly within the…Read more Pale Forest

Clearing the Air

As some of you may have noticed, I have taken a long break from the internet. I disappeared for a while to devote all my time to my family, the holidays and all the hum drum activity of keeping several people warm, relatively calm (i.e. not injuring each other over trivialities or toys) and occupied…Read more Clearing the Air

Snowflake

Before the word snowflake became frozen in insult territory, compounded by the (shit)storms of 2017 and the year preceding, it was simply a word that, in my opinion, perfectly captured the wondrous, fleeting, festive time between Thanksgiving, Christmas and New Year—my favorite holidays of the year. There’s something about this time, it has that special…Read more Snowflake

Awake and Dreaming in Berlin

A tall man sat cross-legged on the floor by the sliding doors of the Ring Bahn, the train that runs frenetic loops above the crowded heart of Berlin. He was not a young man, not quite middle-aged either. Heavily intoxicated, he was probably heading home after a long night partying along the Spree, or cruising…Read more Awake and Dreaming in Berlin