Lipstick red, ladybug red, late-August-sky-on-fire red, still steaming. I could smell them from the door. Tomatoes have a smell.
Read MoreOn a hill
Journal
On a little clock
A carpet of suns in spectra of yellows, oranges, burgundies, and coppers.
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On a fortune cookie
“He prefers those who eat the cookie to those who do not.”
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On flowers, always
“There are always flowers for those who want to see them.”
– Henri Matisse
On the top floor
Four glass walls and a glass roof. An actual garden.
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On the scale
Feed the birds, tuppence a bag.
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On life, still, with plums
“Eyes droop. Little chests lean into yours. And in the kitchen, bits of plum and strawberry on the countertop…”
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On the doorstep
An old Lebanese house by the sea. A time when people and doors were more open.
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On a wheel
But this is a story about a wheel, an engine, and going nowhere.
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On Tuesdays, seven to eight
Waiting by the radio for a song to play.
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