Tuesday, August 25, 2015


What do trees think about this ceramic head placed in a field?  What a gift for us?  For them?  A city brims with the unexpected.  Unexpected treasures. Gardian of what?  Of whom?  I'm imagining, Gardian of the Alemany Farmers Market.   Of course, more than veggies & fruits exchange hands.  A farmers market is like paper to a poem.  Look at your shopping list & a poem is being written -- almost.  Happy figs.  Happy tomatoes.  Well-fed poem.  Thank you Guardian.

Below is my Guardian of choice.  Guardian of pomegranates & all things seasonal.

1 comment:

  1. It is a large round table. They are going to the fight. I understand they have had the tickets for months and it is very hard to get an extra one.

    My father has just received a letter from a young woman he recently met in Greece. She has refused his invitation to visit us because she had a bad experience with her ex-fiance. "What does she think I am, some adolescent?" he says.

    We are all enjoying spaghetti and clam sauce. After dinner we walk out into the rain, shiny on the New York streets he leans over to kiss me. I am very tired from the long bus ride.

    The young woman eventually changes her mind and visits us. She is a former airline stewardess living in a rural area of Britain. She believes the Queen is useful. She and my father get married.