Popsicle sticks writing in hot, sticky tar, on hot streets, on hot summer days. Sitting on the curb with tanned shoulders bending to the ground by the weight of the sun. Spider webs sparkling in the morning dew. Cool, summer streams filling the air with rushing sounds of clear running water. My dog licking theContinue reading “SWEET WHITE CORN AND SUMMER TOMATOES”
I’m dead. I’ve been dead for a very long time. No amount of life can infuse itself into my heart, soul or brain to change the death of me. Still…I walk, I talk, work, write, love. How can that be – a dead person still standing and talking about it all?
Lake Erie disappears when the fog rolls in. Downtown Cleveland High Rise Skyline disappears too. All the high rises succumb to the rolling fog. Then it settles, waiting for its next instruction, making you feel the comfort of a smaller world. When it decides to recede, like the waves in the Great Lake it blankets,Continue reading “FOG”
The eye of the storm. The mind is most powerful when it’s stubborn. The resistance of the mind is like super glue–one drop holds a yacht, keeps a mountain from moving, stops the sea from separating, and creates a frustration so intense in a person witnessing it in another, that it can cause heart attacks,Continue reading “THE EYE OF THE STORM”
The power of a plant. Winding around the brick wall the ivy fastens itself to the mortar as if for dear life, puncturing wounds into the walls it calls on for it’s survival. The concept of patience and waiting appears not to surface in the ivy’s mission to simultaneously destroy that which it clings to inContinue reading “THE POWER OF THE PLANT”