Sadly, I part from you; Like a clam torn from its shell, I go, and autumn too. — Distance, felt viscerally. Almost winter, this cool sun returns me: I rode a retired racehorse, once, around a frosty outdoor track, he was prone to startle, making counterclockwise loops at an unhinged gallop, reverting to a yearling heart. Ashamed of its unruliness I put my through its paces, but really, who works who? This day is […]
Mums are finished nothing left to write about except the radish — And I return to lemons, their solar scent, spice dishes with a heavy hand. I might collect jars of jam, seeded with constellations, figs from the Adriatic, salt, pine, and citrus– once I wandered the walls of Dubrovnik, above the red clay roofs– and yet it’s still winter, and here I am, haunting or haunted, steam rises from my soup.
Awakened at midnight by the sound of the water jar cracking from the ice — Basho, I’m too well-acquainted with the small of the night, the lonely hours that pull one out of sleep, so desperate for company. Seeing only frost from my window, a hoary silence, and lacking discernment, I thought it had snowed. It’s noon, now, golden, and I’m a foreigner to myself. (I don’t normally do writing challenges but was tempted by this great post […]
OPTIONAL POETRY 