Category Archives: Gratitude

Words

I listen not for meaning, 
I cannot understand but
Every sixth word, but for
The rhythm, the pitch, I
Feel the music pulsing in
The delicate delivery. It
Is deliberate, written with
Care, I know this from an
English rendition I heard
First, and that knowledge 
Has me listening, careful,
Listening deliberately, for
That sixth word I might 
Catch, as if my butterfly
Net is dense enough to
Keep foreign words from
Escaping into the ether
I listen for the pleasure 
Sound brings as words
Hit the air, reverberating
With sense or nonsense
I listen, not for meaning,
For the pleasing rhythms

It’s clear

It's such a clear, such
A bright blue day, that
Every object I see in
The distance is clearer
And brighter, reveals 
Its own outlines with
Moral clarity and the
Strength of defiance.
That water tower is
Defined by its bulk 
And by the lines of its
Shape held high in the
Clear blue, traced by it.
There are, for instance
Also windows that shine
Today, looking out and
Inward, brightened by
The clarity, clarified by
The brightness.

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.