One year, in the early 1990s, a group of us working for NBC Election Unit somehow managed to get a permit to play softball in Central Park. Tough permit to get, and we were stupidly lucky to get it. Anybody who wanted could play; you didn’t have to work for NBC. It was a pretty rag-tag team. In addition, it was the last slot on Sunday night, which meant that we got to play late, until it started to get dark. Fun games. Fu...

The Peace GardensThe rosemary sounds like static when it's angry—seventeen years of Margaret Chen's voice, crackling with accusations about ungrateful children and wasted piano lessons. I planted it next to the sage three days ago—sage that hums with the same woman's whispered apologies to empty rooms. Now they're doing something I've never heard before. The rosemary's static is softening. The sage's hum is getting strong...

Clinging onto faded photographs Rigid poses that were choreographed Blurred bodies and echoed laughs Locked in stasis for a time and a half A mirror to glance into the past Sparking memories specific and vast Faces of Youth gone too fast Fleeting moments were never meant to last A tool invented allows us to remember Sunsoaked summers and chilled Decembers Waves of joy and hearts in embers A time conserved together Hollowe...

Forty-six years ago, Bobby opened the doors and let us in. Battered and peeling even then, it was our sanctuary of truth. We learned fast to come and go in groups on its sketchy street and did we ever. The music was loud, the drinks cheap, and the light low enough to mantle the next morning's regret. Going to the ladies was a euphemism you learned quickly and wasn't for the faint-hearted. Then the world decided yes, you'r...

I was maybe four? Fifty-plus years later, the images remain distinct. Between my parents on the front seat of their Oldsmobile, I stood mesmerized by the convoy of passing U.S. Army vehicles. There must have been at least 100 of the olive green Jeeps, tankers and all manner of show of force. “Where are they going?” “How many are there?” “Do they have guns?” I peppered my parents with questions. I don’t recall the answers....

I watched you windsurf for most of the day, The sails went back and forth with the occasional jump and twist and maybe a flip. This looks impressive to those of us who don’t do it ourselves. Afterwards, we went to a spot near the river where people were jumping off a cliff into the waters below. I went also, but when I looked over the edge, I froze.  People were watching from below with words of encouragement. “It’s easy...

Standing at the school gate, Harry Connor cursed softly. Memory, you damned trickster. A tantalising image had shaped in the furred conduits of his ageing mind. A gem of reminiscence teasingly snatched away, evading his grasp. He had made this journey seeking to recall a special face. Now, the school’s soot-darkened bricks and stark arched windows had fleetingly evoked a significant moment, long forgotten. Bent against th...

---“It’s not him, is it, Jack? It’s just not him.” My mother’s despairing words were a mournful poem that reverberated inside my head whenever I visited the hospital. She was so right. The wizened shell inhabited by something totally alien was a parody of the father I had known. Those chafing images implanted in my head threatened to bury the good that had gone before. Sitting there, in that clinical cleanliness, the odou...

So far away the prairies range my loveThe vistasAnd the memoriesAs well We pause our gaze in recognition nowBecause we passed this way once long ago And in a hollow rests the storied barn Its shadows touchedWith dusty sunlit swirls Your hand is resting on my leg my loveYour dreamy eyes are crinkled In a smile As both of us recall our visit hereDown by the scoured channel's mossy damp Just recently the firesWere burning br...

Music can soothe a broken heart Music can get you dancing with the one you love By yourself or even your best friend Two-step, tango or a waltz can create beautiful memories The right music Can help you fall in love It can be the soundtrack of your dreams Music speaks when you can't find the words You can lose yourself in the rhythm of the music   

Will you wait for me.It was the questionSpoken in a whisper in the dark.The answer was yes,I'll wait for you,No matter how longI'll wait.She dried her tears after the callTelling her the news.She knew.He was gone.Before the callShe felt her heart slowly breaking.But she smiledThrough the painRecalling the special memories.The nights of love,The passion they shared.She knewWhen the time cameHe would be waiting on the other...

Your face is captured like a paintingHanging upon my wallTo admire the true beauty you possessThat stole my beating heartEach vivid color seeps into othersCreating a new design of wondrous expressionBrushstrokes that wash across your soft pink skinEyes that draw you in, no matter where you standThose sweet ruby lips so finely drawnGlistening of the soft kisses we once enjoyedThose strands of long hair strung across your f...

A picture perfect moment and such a lovely gown of pure white, glamorously gliding over the floor as she spun around. Twirling into strong arms, surrounded by a sea of faces, all of which smiled. Genuine happy faces that looked on, joyful expressions that overshadowed the two dancing. A blissful scene between them and the crowd, it blurred at the edges and the flowing music began to sound rhetoric and hollow. Soon the son...

Memories we make them every day, I wonder do we realize at the time, How much that memory will mean later on in life. Something as simple as a smile from someone special that brightens our day. A hug from a friend when we need encouragement. A text from that special someone, How's your day going sweetie? Times spent sharing about our day, Words of encouragement offered at a difficult time, Times spent sharing accomplishme...

A warm spring night under the skyscrapers I stand under a blossoming tree Each flower burning and sparkling in orange light As a street lamp burns From within its tangled branches. The beautiful sight takes me back to Nashville last spring, And you - shimmering under a blossom tree too. You, me, and a friend, How I wished then that you could be mine, The music of your spirit still ringing in my ears, The music of your pre...