Color My Missives

More than one of the plants in my father’s apartment are older than me.

From my favorite bar in DC last week. How many of us can say we have been to a bar where a twenty-something serves drinks to a sixty-something? Or several of them? Sure the jukebox pumps out the white stripes et al on a weekend evening, but saturday afternoon is for the true vets.

Thinking about the word yes this morning. It is early. The birds chirp. Should there be more sky in this picture, or more of that thinking green? It is only so often that the morning calls for this hazy contemplation - for me at least. Each breath of smoke only only carries the lift […]