The First Sunday Evening in June

The first Sunday evening in June is like that famous score by John Cage titled 4’33”. He had the idea to write a piece of music that instructed every musician to simply and simultaneously rest: to not play any note or sound for four minutes and thirty-three seconds. It was an experimental, unprecedented undertaking, andContinue reading “The First Sunday Evening in June”

Down the Cellar This Morning

Suddenly, without warning, without precedent or prelude, On a dreary January morning, in the grey and lingering damp, It happened that Summer startled me— quite unannounced and unexpected. It shocked me, there in the cellar, sifting through cobwebs, extension cords, milk crates, and mesh bags of walnuts— the implements and incomplete aspirations of Saturdays past.Continue reading “Down the Cellar This Morning”

Peaches

Every summer it happens—It happens that I become paralyzed,Paralyzed, that is, with the decisionAs to which of my girlsTo nickname “Peach.”The paralysis stems from the considerationThat each one is worthy,And to a verifiable extent:Dear to my heart,Locally sourced,As fresh as summer dew,With a hint of tartness,Rosy as the dawn,And a sublime companion to waffles. JulyContinue reading “Peaches”