friends not seen for many years,
faces marked by time.
We met in autumn days,
smitten with each other’s work,
two score years ago.
Now it's our autumn.
Memory's leaves, gold and crimson
as we stroll through them.
Poetica: Memory lapse
What's the word I want? It's on the tip of my tongue – Synapse not firing! I keep thinking that garlic keeps z...
Poetica: Be curious, not suspicious!
Curiosity in the face of something strange opens a closed door. You, the Explorer, serve as guardian angel to...
Poetica: Activate your selfie
"The world is ours!", screams a fresh generation, "Give it back right now!" My apologies, but it is badly brok...