The Missing DayHow curious must it be
that down the endless
reach of time
one was born on the 29th
of February.What day in this year
will they call Mine?Peeling the month off
the calendar reveals
My special day: on the 10th
of March, (dear me!)
I turn 40.May I please lose my birthday, too?
Not for reasons of youth
nor of desire to reverse
the phenomenon of my being here.Rather to spend the weekend
in peace, free of countdowns
and counting blessings,
meanwhile filling in the invisible
debit column.Be rid of history's toy
shackles. How lovely
must it be to measure a life
no more.—Razel Estrella
Top Shelf
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The Vocalist The rest could only imitate what he alone and all alone could do: sustain, vibrate, reach unnamed colors of the soundscape. ...
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Pulse (A love poem) In the beginning was a pulse that came right before any breath to birth a song or a word. It throbs even as the music...
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Pictures to Show The article calls for being present. That instead of taking photos of the bee Sucking on sunflower, Lock your eyes ... -
So I have gotten into the habit of recording my piano practices because reasons (that have got to do with skills development and, admittedl...
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Everyday view from the kitchen window You read your horoscope and think it can apply to literally anyone in the world. Then you go deeper ... -
Prelude Let's make work of beginnings. Think prelude, how the masters leave little worlds on their own till one is found by acc...
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None of the Lights I answered with reluctance when you invited me to a bonfire by the beach with young girls and a local who, despite her ...
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Superboy! You have a liking for high places Dissecting plain skies Looking down on people Dissolving into borders Because you wish to fly...
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Appropriate, to the level of cliché, that the first blog of the year features a prelude. In TV-series tradition, a brief recap of 202...
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Modiano, Patrick. The Black Notebook. Mariner, 2016. My favorite bookstagrammer (is that how you call them?) told me that "[Patrick...
