lament

all in green went my love riding…
O, e.e. cummings

consumed with that which it was nourished by…
O Will

O western wind when wilt thou blow
and rain the small rain down?
O Christ that my love were in my arms
and I in my bed again

whispering/singing/wailing/boasting/calling
to each other, O death
that makes life bright,
my beautiful is
gone

reborn as all

~

photo: Victor Romanyshyn "All in green my love went riding..."

photo: Victor Romanyshyn
“All in green went my love riding…”

summer women

celebrating in colorful dresses,
bodies intact, rebuilding
winter breaches of assurance,
tending friendships,
tannned & upright,
chattering like birds,
rising, wheeling, settling
to mutual advantage

fado

a slow upwelling beat
supports the mandolin,
a wandering melody
loosens your resentment
of the heat, leads you
to smile and cry,
to laugh at fate which
awaits us all,
brothers and sisters,
outside
in poverty & silence—
open the door,
singing

Beauty

Beauty matters. It is a mirror in which we find our better selves—across centuries and continents or on a sidewalk. Whatever we do, we can do more beautifully. Then, love of life is embodied in the act, the love that fuels all others.

~

begin with your deepest need,

let it go

now,
make something

~

squash, Portland

squash, Portland

Ensemble

ensemble

ensemble

In a doorway escaping a summer evening drizzle, practicing an updated version of Freight Train, stopping to get the bass line right on the ooom-pah horn, banjo holding it together, the rhythm guitar played by the lead singer who has a clear old-timey voice sometimes ornamental, sometimes central—the music floats down Exchange Street—young & loose & hopeful.

It will sound again at each other’s weddings. There will be wild strawberries.

Summer Solstice

A few days before the solstice:

tanker sunset, Portland Harbor

tanker sunset, Portland Harbor

Last rays of sun on Outer Green Island:

summer solstice, Outer Green Island

summer solstice, Outer Green Island

A quiet “Django” played Sunday morning by someone I’d not seen before. Summer in Maine.

"Django," Crema Cafe

“Django,” Crema Cafe