Another Space

They sat on either end 

of a honey toned oak table

with mugs of Ceylon tea, 
a plate of shortbread cookies

an earthenware teapot, stacks of books,

and an Appalachian mountain dulcimer

Poetry and music conjured up

sylvan settings where time

expanded and contracted

—and words loosened from boundaries

—and songs without words

set up new perimeters

Improvised sounds carried melodies 

to places 

unencumbered by time

Friends and Lovers

They kept a book of words,

constructed from inverted letters 

and  sounds that lacked 

pronunciation —Each word stood 

in for one  found in a dictionary

They wrote notes saying 

what couldn’t be said

in plain English—They hid

behind their code certain

that no one else knew

their secrets

A Carousel of Forbidden Tastes

I delight in 

falafel sandwiches brimming 

with diced vegetables

 tri- cornered humentashen 

raspberry frozen yogurt

piled four finger’s high

ratatouille made with zucchini, 

purple eggplant, shallots, 

and miniature sweet peppers

I score cucumbers with fork tines

create ringlets of carrot ribbons,

and slice mushroom caps

into moon shaped slivers

i create paninis 

with left-over chicken

years ago

I prepared layers of lasagna

in two pyrex dishes

and left one dish on the table

when I left the house 

to dine with women 

who brought platters

of dining delights
seasoned with spices
I learned to love

The River Stream

             I have a deeply hidden...desire
              for something beyond the daily life.
                     Virginia Woolf

stepping stones led us
around a bend and into
a place of desire

On Alert

Now we have mosquito repellent and tick balm to weather the outdoors. When an errant golf ball disappears into the overgrowth it remains. Remember running barefoot in the grass? According to those in the know we should don long pants, long sleeves, and  a wide brimmed hat before picking a weed.

It’s downright dangerous out there. And in a town nearby an eight foot python left his abode and wanders in the neighborhood. 

Years ago, when I was in the third grade, our school rented an old movie called— I believe— Frank Bring them Back Alive Buck. In that movie Frank allows a twelve foot boa to coil around his torso. It all worked out because three extras unwrapped the coils. 

That night I asked my father to look under the bed, in the closet, and in the shower lest there was a boa in our home. All he found was my grandmother’s ball of twine. 

Hyper vigilance — code words.

Everything Has a Beginning

The road dipped before the rise—
before it flattened out,
my stomach dropped
my breath held still
until we hit the straightaway—
It worked out best 
to keep a foot
on the gas pedal
That summer
we drove back and forth—
seeking the right speed
We ate long strands of red licorice 
and smoked unfiltered cigarettes 
One night when the leaves shook

we stopped at the bottom of the dip

to bathe in moonlight

How long ago 

and yet I recall that road,

and the taste of summer heat