haiku (and not your usual 5-7-5)
Thursday, April 30, 2015
99
Perry. 99 Perry St. in the West Village. I didn't grow up there, but I grew there. On the right is my friend Nina. I'm on the left capturing memories.
It's not only food but photos and poems bring forth memories. And, yes, precisely -- food. Thinking of butterfish dipped in buttermilk and coasted with sesame seeds. Sauted -- gently.
Back in SF, reading Broken Land, poems of Brooklyn which Nina gifted.
From a specific address to butterfish to poems about Brooklyn. How? Because friendship matters.
Thinking of Judy G and Ron. Where are you?
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cp223 footsteps
ReplyDeleteAs if sinking under birds' wings
a mighty conflagration halts their motion
builds into a roaring wave
of sound and sentimental wishes
crashing upon the tiny shores
sending birds off to the north
something mighty happens
and in the ruckus of the centuries
flowers land on the headstones
of her friends and neighbors
and they feel the brush of wind
on the surface of their souls