The old man sat on the sand staring at the ocean. His grey locks swayed with the wind from under his fisherman’s hat. The pale October sunshine peered through here and there.
“It’s butternut squash,” the girl said, lowering a bowl of steaming soup. “We’ve been watching you, here all day. This could be good for you, unless of course you are allergic.”
The old man extended his hands and took the bowl. His fingerless flannel gloves came from an era alien to the girl. She stared at them in fascination.
“Thank you,” the old man’s voice so crystalline, that the girl averted her gaze for fear not to appear rude. …
He was up there, in an ICU, fighting for his life.
Her fingers hurt on the binoculars, naked fingertips frozen because she forgot to warm them up. She’d move only when sharp pain arrowed into her body reminding her of its presence.
Miraculously, she was fine. She tested negative twice. No COVID for her.
Her eyes blinked. Ava hated that she registered these indications of life in her, sorry reminders now. How could the universe let this happen? They had finally found each other. What would she do with the rest of her existence? How could she go back to the soldier-life from before? Would she even last long? She hated the self-pity pattern: her, her life. …
The past, the past, letting go of the past…
How did you do, my dear,
Bear the changing of the year?
The grandfather clock booms one
Already in 2021.
I think of you now gone,
Not sure where, still don’t know how.
Your ashes in a bag I wonder
Exactly what to do, to hold you true?
“A Happier Year” I hear,
Happier how, without you?
I almost expect your giggle,
Handing me another flute,
There’s no champagne this year,
What would have been the point?
I can’t go to bed, I’m eying the couch,
My bed since you left for the hospital.
I looked at our bedroom, one more time last year,
It broke my heart, dear. …
I am one with the Earth.
Not only was I graced by an Earth sign in my horoscope, but my name in Latin means laborer of the earth. And how I love making things grow: plants, food, jewelry, stories…
I adore nature and there’s nowhere I feel more thriving than in the midst of it. Flowers make my eyes sparkle and my face grin, blades of grass bring tender thoughts. Tree-hugger from an early age, I know Mother Nature is the appropriate calling, as I do get most inspiration, joy, purity and honesty from Her.
My connection with the Earth is innate and divine. So strong that I’ve unabashedly soaked the dirt with the salt of my tears, be it from misfortune or happiness. My veins are roots growing and throbbing with the Earth. How fortunate am I to always have known where I belong: feet strongly planted on the ground. …
My broken bones,
My son’s appendix,
The house we lived in now demolished,
The pettiness of people too little or angry to see the light,
The army of dust forever conquering all surfaces around us,
The noise of the streets: the subways, the trains, the delivery trucks,
The parking lot I stared at and transformed into a forest so that I can write,
The neighbors with their screaming and insults, their ferocious invading cats,
The social housing compound with their fights, drugs, and guns,
The police cars and firetrucks always visiting across the street,
The revving bastards with their loud music and parties at night in the parking…