Posted in Journal

As in a Magritte

Half 8 by the coast of the Celtic Sea, a gull gleaming as it banks round into a gray-masked sun, a wee breeze and gentle chill in a tame air, the coffee decent tart and sweet, and we’ve arrived somehow at a Thursday in a blur of days both rising and falling, as in a Magritte.

Posted in Journal

Dripping Rain

Half ten by the coast of the Celtic Sea, the sky bright but gray with a dripping rain, a mild breeze tickling the spring leaves, the birds busy, the coffee decent tart and sweet, and we’ve reached midweek, the world still a wee too fragile, the near months too fraught.

Posted in Journal

June, Then

Half 7 by the coast of the Celtic Sea, a light fog softening the sky, the air tame with a touch of morning chill, the birds busy, the coffee decent tart and sweet, and here we are at June, our lives not shed yet of the strangeness that’s settled over these years.

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Red Tape Today

Eight by the coast of the Celtic Sea, and already warm enough for long sleeves and a jumper, the sky mottled but bright, the breeze modest, the birds busy, the coffee decent tart and sweet, and a bit of red tape in prospect as Monday confirmation that heaven hasn’t yet arrived.

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A Wee Chill

Half seven near the coast of the Celtic Sea, a wee chill in the tame air, the sky blue from the harbor ridge to the cottage, the birds busy, the coffee decent tart and sweet, and we come round again to the refilling of the pillbox — Sunday, an ocean away from a half mad America.

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Gone Rain

Near 8 by the coast of the Celtic Sea, the sky gray, the rain gone, the air tame, its chill muted, the birds busy, the coffee decent tart and sweet, the jackhammer down the street sweetly silent, and we’ve arrived at a Friday an ocean away from half mad America.

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A Montage

Nearing 7 by the coast of the Celtic Sea, the sky all gray, the birds busy in a breeze, a chill riding the air, my socked feet wanting closer to the faux fire, the coffee decent tart and sweet, and the news from America a montage of decency, reason, buffoonery, and madness.

Posted in Journal

A Tranquil Collage

Eight by the coast of the Celtic Sea, the sky a tranquil collage of whites and grays against a mostly-obscured spring blue canvas, the air tame with a chill, the birds busy, the coffee decent sharp and sweet, and across in America, decency and sense fight for a foothold.

Posted in Journal

Pillbox Day Again

Half six by the coast of the Celtic Sea, the wind up and laden with rain and with a spring chill, the harbor ridge softened by a fog, some birds about, the coffee decent sharp and sweet, and it’s Sunday again somehow, the pillbox refilling at hand.