All I need

my feet to travel the distance,

socks and sandals to protect them.

a blouse to cover my torso

and a sweater to cover my blouse

when the wind blows or the temperature drops.

a swimsuit, in case, and a scarf or two,

because we may want to look fancy.

a couple of summer dresses, in case,

and some pajamas for the certainty of sleep.

my feet, a few clothes,

that's all I need to travel the world.

In trouble with the Beefeater at London Tower

he hates when people say how cute he is in his costume,

this stern, yet rotund, smiling, yet commanding figure

in his military uniform in his role as one of Yeoman Warders,

a Sovereign Guard, a Beefeater, for those who drink gin.

Many times medalled, Afghanistan, Iraq, 

not one to mess with, and I did, leaning in a bit

too close, inside the allowable circle

knowing he could have knocked my head off,

all for a goofy photo for my love. 

Vacation is exhausting

vacation is exhausting

cycling along on an electric bike,

stopping for a lunch of confit de canard,

followed by creme brulee, un élonge, or 

perhaps allonge, but that means dead.

I'm not dead, just tired, relaxed, 

the bikes are behind me 

taking their rest.

our house seems so small

I was perfectly happy until I laid eyes on the chateau

in distance, up on the hill, they looked down

onto their fields of wheat and pasture.

clouds drifted by overhead, a cool shadow

occasionally protected the farmers from the heat

of the sun.

my life, all of a sudden, seemed so constrained

in that tiny little house where a small dog seems

to take up all the space and breathes all the fresh air.

there is limitless fresh air here, sun, wind, grapes 

ripening in the sun, the people up there are holding

large glasses of sumptuous red wine and eating

freshly baked baguettes and pungent cheeses.

my life seems so small, so constrained, working in 

small boxy office buildings looking at computer screens.

I'm sure I was meant to be here, dressed in fantastic dresses

and elegant shoes, drinking wine and eating pungent cheeses,

what did I do wrong to live with dog who breathes all the

fresh air and where I have to shop for my own food.

once and for all

equal pay for equal work,

not just for women and men,

but gay and straight,

black and white and brown,

for native Americans and Maori

for the straight white man

who set the scales.

So says the Communist Party 

in the village of Cyrano de Bergerac,

this poster hovers over hoardes of tourists

speaking all languages, we are all one,

le chef

we wandered into a Michelin restaurant

and dined like a king and queen at the table of 

le grand chef, Stéphane Cevin, the large fellow

behind the glass, the one on page 42 of the cookbook

celebrating the grand chefs of Perigord.

He smiles alot and expertly handles a myriad of 

saucepans and platters.

Anyone who claims a large kitchen is needed to cook

a grand meal should visit this grand homme de cuisine.

Il vous montera comme cuire dans une petite cuisine!

les kilometres de vignobles

en route

des kilomètres de vignobles

tout droit, le ciel bleu, du soleil

c'est ce qui nous accueille ici en France, 

a la fin de notre journée de vélo, nous

passerons a un restaurant pour boire le 

jus de ces vignobles avec plaisir. 

arms and feet

she was looking at me as my camera followed her,

capturing her right arm and her feet in staccato motion

above the mirror lake in front of the Bourse

the Borse of Bordeaux, where one can look down and 

see the clouds drifting by, or the reflection of the

stately edifice across the way, or the staccato of

moving arms and legs.

she looked at me with concern, perhaps worried

the segments of her body would never coalesce

back into a whole, this girl need have to worries,

the clouds, the lake, and I would make sure

she would run, whole, into her mother's arms.

Vive la France

oui, c'est une longue journée d'y aller, mais nous avons bien déjeuné,

yes, it was a long day, but after a bottle of wine, a dinner of 

French onion soup, lamb and the most divine tarte de pomme,

it all faded away.

and when we toured the Catacombs 

(thank you, Stephen, for buying tickets ahead of time),

nous sommes rappelés que le vie est courte, qu'elle passe vite.

We must enjoy every day

Oui, nous devrions apprécier chaque jour.

offerings

what could I offer of myself

that would garner a donation, what do I have

that is worth something of interest

oh yes, I know about space and rockets, of space debris

and missions to Europa,

I know about flowers and have many to share,

I can wield an artist's pen and make art.

I can offer of myself and money will flow

towards a worthwhile cause, one that creates

community and a sharing of love.

I can share my love.

Double Cosines

The urgency of knowing 

whether the method used a single cosine

or double cosines,

it would make all the difference

and the words could not bridge the gap.

only pictures, a smile, a gesture can bridge

the gap across the divide of misunderstanding

the same one we visited two years ago,

yes, draw it on the white board, show me a picture

and I'll understand.

The Birthday Boy

now we can take the flat champagne out of the frig,

refizz it and add the orange juice that I bought 

a couple months ago when Stephen was sick,

Mimosas a Sunday morning after our Saturday night

dinner with friends, where we all were ready for bed

at 9.

That's what 49 looks like.

Oh,and that's what 60 looks like on top of that.

A sign of wisdom, a flexibility and resilience

to handle such vagaries of aging,

fizz makers!