fairy lights and sparrow skulls
swollen winter river strands
vintage postcards on the walls
summer lined in brick-paved bands
On my mind lately
Tag Archives: vintage
Merry Holidays
Merry Holidays to you and to your families.
Be safe, warm and happy and I’ll see you again in January.
Tom’s Diner
(my little version i was thinking about
a couple Sunday mornings ago at Tom’s Diner)
i was sitting
in the morning
at the diner
on the corner
i was thinking
of the years
that passed by
steadily and still
the smells of
fresh brewed coffee
made me close
my eyes and wonder
where my art school
dreams have drifted…
an homage to Suzanne Vega and her song Tom’s Diner, 1981
Epic
How many things have you held?
How many hands have carried you?
How many lives have you lived?
My children laugh at me when I fall in love with items
like rusty colanders. But I know if they could speak,
the stories they would tell would be epic.
A Conversation from Years Ago
“Hello?”
“Hi Nancy, listen, I’m going to be in your neighborhood later today and was wondering if you needed anything at the store?”
“I’m sorry, you must have the wrong number.”
Click.
Actually, I had needed something at the store.
Lace Curtains
Watching through the curtains, she judges the day.
The moody winter sun filters through the fabric and
becomes small, peppered sparks in her weary eyes.
Memories
The past, the present,
the future falling fast.
The now, the then,
the if, the how, the when–
of us, of them,
of me and sometimes you,
of her and him,
of whirlwinds painted blue.
Postcards from the Past
Written on the back:
Dear Gladys,
I am feeling better this morning. Hope you people are the same.
Will write again when in Watuka. Loving, Alva
If I were Gladys:
Dear Alva,
I’m so glad you’re feeling better. Everyone here is quite well.
How is Watuka? Really Alva, Watuka? What reason could you
have for traveling so far from home? Is it because of him?
Darling, you will have others in your life again.
Love will find you, don’t despair!
Honestly, I miss your direct disposition
and your lovely penmanship.
You always have a home here in Mt. Erie, Illinois.
Come back home to us sweetie. Loving, Gladys
What captures my attention
rusty farm equipment
old fire trucks
worn brushes
tiny bird skulls
1960’s ambulances
vigilant hawks
hand lettering
rocks on the ground
pine cones in a tree
a funeral procession
rain on the river
spanishwoods 