Vice President Biden visited Provincetown, Massachusetts this week, and spoke of the courage of the LGBT community. The twenty-five-hundred prayer ribbons fluttering in front of the Provincetown Library on the 25th anniversary of the annual Swim for Life event, spoke more effectively, of something much larger than one special interest …
“They don’t make ’em like they used to,” my framer quips. “They have laws against that.” Right here, at this corner of the house, decades of construction technology unite. Solid, rough-hewn wood; mortise and tenon joinery and wide planks of old growth pine meet steel and LVLs and strand board …
Convertible Night Sky (Memory) I’m wearing silk and denim, freshly showered, platform wedge shoes, camera in my lap. My husband smells like summer, sports a happy Tommy Bahama shirt and a baseball cap, and guides the car smoothly home. It’s date night and we are high on Chris Smither, laughter …
Nightlights (Memory) Her recital dress hangs half dead, forgotten on a mudroom peg. The dress remembers, though. Its sequins cast dancers on the walls when evening light falls like music at the window.
I’m Doing It, Grandma! (Memory) Behind him, a bluegrass band plays foot-stomping, singable songs. Loudly. The assembled townsfolk sing along, eat, laugh, politick and enjoy family time. He doesn’t notice. He dips the giant wand into the tray of bubble mixture, and waves the wand frantically. Nothing happens. Repeats. Nothing …
Missing (Memory) I wandered this way one miserable day. Well, the day wasn’t miserable. I was. Agitated, dispirited I stomped more than wandered toward the river. Frazzled by taking the expected path in every quarter of my life, I splintered off the easy, cleared woodland path and into hay-scented ferns, …
Standing five blocks away, I could smell the hot fudge. I could taste the mint patty. One hundred degrees of muggy heat, and all signs pointed to a satisfying solution, served up with smiles all around. Yes, a regular, please.
Thunder grumbles interrupted the happy, rose-scented, graduation party burble. Wind lifted the table cloths, lifted the plates, lifted the canopies, lifted the guests out of the pool, out of their chairs and into the safety of the house. Water fell in cold marbles that bounced on empty chairs and piled …
Home-9 (all) When you enter an empty room do you register what you see? Rarely, I think, unless its emptiness shocks you. The room is, well, empty, therefore it is unlikely to contain anything or anyone you seek. Why would you bother to study it? A photograph of an empty …
Vanilla Grill (Common Sense) Vanilla-scented astilbe crowds the rusted grill. Its doors still glide open with a smart “snick”. Spiders and leaves fill the void around the cold propane tank. I raise the silent lid, turn the knob, click-click-click, and a blue flame whooshes just short of my face, settles …