Category Archives: Gratitude

Eggplant / Aubergine

Aubergine, the breathy British
Voice reads, and I translate it
Forming the word silently, it's 
Eggplant, I hear in my head. I
Regret it sounds so provincial
In the American. Isn't the UK
Interpretation of the vegetable
Prettier? More melodious and
Exotic. I say that as someone 
Intoxicated by any food that's 
Eggplant-adjacent, it was with
A thrill I discovered pizza that
Was topped by large rings of 
The purple bulb, for example.
Aubergine on my pizza, does
That not trip off your tongue,
Easily, sweetly, with the total
Alacrity. Aubergine parmesan?
Eggplant parmegiano? Which 
One is more delectable do you
Think? Aubergine parmegiano.

First cold night. 2025

When the air is chilled, sound
Travels more crisply; that guy
Behind, who would have been
Loud anyway, well tonight his
Voice carries brightly past my
Ear. It's that kind of cold night,
Early enough so those out in 
It are not carousers, too late
To be coming from the office 
Unless you're inclined to late
Hours. Maybe you're strolling
Home from a dinner, or out
With your dog. In the cold, it's
Hard but walking your dog is
A duty. He probably loves it
The bright clean air. Some of
You put coats on the critter
But I think he'd be happier if
You let him out au naturel.
This little guy swaggers out
And down the steps, his guy
A coupla steps behind him.
It's that kind of cold night.

Your picture

You were my favorite subject.
No one could be more delighted 
Or more honestly surprised 
When I snapped a picture of you
Sitting in the sun, smiling, or
Pensive, always beautiful, my
Handsome man, my lovely
Model, always enjoying the 
Attention, the adoration I knew
You felt pouring from me to
You. I will never take a new
Photo of your serious face. My
Favorite subject. I delight now
At how many photos, portraits
I have. I can study you for hours
My favorite model, patient 
And willing, your photo alone or
With me. In a park, by the river,
At a baseball game or just at
Peace in the comfort of your
Big brown chair. My favorite 
Subject, I have these pictures
As a memento, memories 
That keep me company now.
Now I take pictures of all 
The places we visited together.
More memories, pictures I
Had taken often before.
Repetition is also memory.

important notes

It is important to document my thoughts. My memories have an even more important place. It’s important to remember.

We drove over the roads
Winding through small towns
Named long ago but unknown
To me, conjuring recollections
But still unfamiliar. We drove
Through towns, Amy and I,
Where I had been years ago,
Familiar to her in their autumn
Splendor. These had been the
Byways I drove years ago, we
Drove, my mother and I, our
Girls' trips, years ago, those
Last six months. We drove 
Through trees emerging in the
Springtime, a farewell tour. 
Today, I remember, I celebrate
It will not be for the last time.
We'll drive here again, Amy 
And I, and remember.

Like Aeschylus

Shakespeare was clever, his
Language precise, but cheeky.
He was not a muse, he was a
Legend, an icon, one to envy,
One to emulate. To dream of
Emulating, a beacon and the
Star in a firmament of English
Poets, Marlowe, Jonson, Dunne
I am done and undone but I,
Like you, try, and want or wish
Or hope, to bend my English to
My thoughts, to trail in the vein
Of the Masters who have so
O'ermastered their English that
My trials are vain, and in vain,
Vainglorious, the Poet might
Say, but not to mock me as I
Try to follow a path that I am
Doomed to find harder than
The Bard's whose prose was 
Poetry and poetry unerringly
Human and complete. I aspire
Where inspiration will not go

Now that you’re gone

A lament, an apology, a resolution

I am sorry I could not
Sit with you after you
Passed. My vigil was
For your life, not your
Death. And, yes, I was 
Vigilant while you still
Drew breath, alert to
How precious a gift it
Was to watch over you 
Of how precious our 
Life together, our love
Was. I sit with you now
Still. I hold vigil in my
Heart's remembrances

Fix it, fix-ins, fixtures

So much madness, crazy 
Stuff, so crazy you only
Can call it shit, crazy shit.
Just reach for the sides,
Sweet potatoes, they will
Save you, I like mine with
Out the marshmallows, I
Know, sweeter maybe is
Better, especially now, I
Agree. Pass the brussel
Sprouts, please. There's
A chandelier at the Met
That just makes me feel
Good, feel better. These
Lights go up before the
Curtain does. At the Met.

Yes, dear, I do

Do I miss you, darling?

You, of all people, know.

You know I miss you,

And, even, I’ll bet, how

Deeply I miss you. It is

Intense, this absence of

Yours. Yes, I miss you,

Dear. Yet, also, I live my

Life, a life different from

The one we shared, the

One I miss when I say I miss you, darling, so

Much. I […]

Yes, dear, I do

Because

You are not outside my window
Because
You are inside my home
Because
You are inside my heart
Because 
You are not outside
Because
You are inside 
Because
You are not outside
My window, my heart, my home
Because
You are my home
Because 
You will always be my heart
Because
You are not outside my window
Because
You will always be inside
My heart
Because
You are inside me