Basil & friends past & present. Last year's pomegranate -- aged & wise --with two of the season's persimmons. What's not to love.
What does this have to do with words? I'm remembering rollerskating on sidewalks. The special feel of flying over a patch of slate. The marvelous lines the wheels etched. Although I didn't have a word for it, now I'd say
calligraphy across slate.
Are there any patches of slate on sidewalks these days?
Rumpled goods in the corner
ReplyDeleteInclement fortunes in the hallway
Intuitive strangleholds by the kitchen
Rubbery patches of phenomenal grace--
An estuary where we used to walk--
all a whisper, then she's gone
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