I am not sure if there are so many stars when it stays out so late but a yellow tinted light I have makes this very summery. Charcoal on paper, 2017, all rights as always reserved.
Archive for June 2017
Summer Eve
June 11, 2017When Asked To Write Of What I Am Made
June 11, 2017When Asked To Write Of What I Am Made
Water mostly,
most in the form
of tea;
a little red wine (read, whine),
and a relentless belief, though quite untrue,
that all that tissue
(both the soft and hard kind)
will endlessly renew–
Why the tea believes that
is hard to say,
though the wine, I think,
has an inkling
of the unsupportability
of such a notion.
********************
For Magaly Guerrero’s post on Real Toads to write of what one is made of. Pics are mine. I didn’t mean to emphasize red wine, but I happen to have done this drawing (separately) of a wine glass last night, so thought I’d use. (The “read” above, by the way, is supposed to be the imperative tense of the word and not past tense.)
Thinking of Klimt
June 11, 2017My eyes are here
June 10, 2017Can you fly?
June 9, 2017Wound up
June 8, 2017Drawing (again)
June 8, 2017Drawing
June 8, 2017What
June 6, 2017What
It’s the questions of the dead
that stop
my throat.
“Tell me, are my mom and dad
still living?”
the calls almost
to prayer;
“I tried to get Daddy to help me,
but he didn’t hear; I don’t know where
he was–”
“They’re gone, right?” Pause. “Long gone?”
I say, yes,
softly.
******************
For Real Toads open link. I’m not sure pic fits, but mine; all rights reserved.










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