Select Page

Puppy is at peace under the park bench, choosing to sit rather than stand as she eats the fresh cuttings of mowed grass that have fallen on the cement. I let her nibble.

The geometric lines of six sailboats shift on the horizon through the mist. A motor boat putters past; as I watch, it disappears into the horizon. I close my eyes because

other bodies of water in other parts of the world have risen, crashed, wreaked havoc this week in cities and towns I know and love. I say a prayer.

Is it the frantic buzzing of the Luna moth escaping a nighttime newspaper swat or the gentle flutter of the flower garden’s white butterfly outsmarting a storm that is the cleverest?


I have 54,000 emails in my Inbox. One IT man says to ignore them, the next says, Deplore them. Archive!

My eye has a twitch as I lay my head on the pillow. I reach to turn out the light, hear a buzzing and swat. My eye flutters as I watch the moth fall to the floor, then turn to give you a kiss goodnight.

Pin It on Pinterest

Share This
%d bloggers like this: