for the end of fig season. Caramelized Parmesan cheese with figs, walnuts, tomatoes, basil on a pita -- toasted & topped with arugula. A forest; a a canopy to protect the day. For the promise of a word or two.
digging into tomorrow never helps, my teacher said as we declined in latin the journey across rome. she persuaded my father to bring me to her in the morning before class because i was failing, because i could not concentrate, because i could not sleep, because her red hair distracted me, and i could not understand the idea of memorizing when you could just look it up again if you needed to. obscure lessons would plague me to this day. and yet it was kind what he did, to drive me in the red triumph to school before he caught the train to nyc. he so wanted me to do ok, to be ok as it all was crumbling down. the roots of things, the grab they have on the past and the earth and the taste of what we taste. i think of her, miss h., and wonder if her motives were what i thought they were back then. and now, to read petrarch as if it were as lovely as the golden fleece we were supposed to understand.
digging into tomorrow never helps, my teacher said as we declined in latin the journey across rome. she persuaded my father to bring me to her in the morning before class because i was failing, because i could not concentrate, because i could not sleep, because her red hair distracted me, and i could not understand the idea of memorizing when you could just look it up again if you needed to. obscure lessons would plague me to this day. and yet it was kind what he did, to drive me in the red triumph to school before he caught the train to nyc. he so wanted me to do ok, to be ok as it all was crumbling down. the roots of things, the grab they have on the past and the earth and the taste of what we taste. i think of her, miss h., and wonder if her motives were what i thought they were back then. and now, to read petrarch as if it were as lovely as the golden fleece we were supposed to understand.
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