It is not easy trying to photograph a bee. Its flutter speed is faster than my shutter speed, and I end up photographing not where the bee is being but where it has been.
How lovely it is to eat cherries on the beach. I bite each one slowly, feeling the skin give way to the soft flesh inside, a slight sharpness of juice giving a little frisson to the day. It is my birthday again and I am ending the year as it began, on the same beach.… Read More Eating Cherries on the Beach
We are in Matala under a Joni Mitchell moon The candle by your widow bed melts away the hours as you talk about your demons and I wonder why I am here in this strange embrace
A simple act on the train, she brushed the crumbs from her skirt. Nails and papers neatly filed, accounts well-audited, figuratively fine, fiscally faultless, cross her and you cross the line.
I gazed at you across the goat’s cheese salad, in your summer dress of black and orange, but you didn’t seem to mind. About the gazing? About wearing your summer dress in the restaurant? About the goat’s cheese salad? Just kidding. I only know you lead my thoughts astray.