Inland

All day the wind rushes hard like the ocean beating its way through choked  leaves on the highest trees  I imagine  I am by the sea and discern rolling waves in the dark gathering black sand through the undertow and the shush of receding waters over the bark of neighbors’ dogs is the moon’s departure

“Thus, Life is Lived”

I watch – a somber darkening sky only February can lay claim to, beyond the new high-rises, faded forever rooftops of the city passed by as the El clacks ahead further north. I watch: people and their soft-soled shoes and bags, phones, dreamstate eyes looking at nothing as real as the opening and closing ofContinue reading ““Thus, Life is Lived””