Discovering Beauty in Everyday Life

It’s around here somewhere, I am sure I saw it once on a lost horizon Born of chalice gold with a sheen like sun-tipped starlight.   Reservoir, late spring

What will happen to my soul when you are gone? Will I tack it to a wall in a makeshift frame? Reservoir, late evening in July

Wow! Uncovring the bowns of a brownstone is quite a dig! Traces of 1901 architeture mix with the afternoon sun. Top Floor Monroe Street brownstone Renovation

Of course I didn’t see you coming, Or I would have dodged that silken bullet hollowing through my cemented door. I’d be huddled down inside my barrow, Tossing the apple away with the core.

A traveling thought billowed into my mind (I had a sad little broken-bottle life, till then) Long beaches full of empty shells with six-foot rattlers, so I hear Water moccasins down there somewhere, too Spiders and roaches. Which is worse? Not a sidewalk at all in the county Photos stick together in the mildew sun Thirty-six story spacecraft under Climate Control. No looking further than the front way out No window washing, locking doors Bouncing about like a shot without a sling, My soul was on vacation, so maybe that was it. Something took a nip and a tuck out from my life So, I trimmed up for the season, and I sailed back home. I know I should have taken up a life of crime but, the threat seemed just too hollow. I see the animations on the edge of time The orbiters are swimming too close to the light. We are all of us moths, when the flight seems right.

Central Park Reservoir: January 16, 2014