Archive for June, 2015


black heart

I thought I saw you this morning.

I was taking my husband for his annual cardiology check up. You came out of the pharmacy and walked away from us. It was your gait and your build, the blonde hair was short like a school-approved cut from the 1960s, the black-framed glasses, the chinos with a narrow black belt. Not a madras plaid, short-sleeved shirt but a pale green tee shirt nonetheless evocative of the times. I was swept back forty-some years and almost called your name to run after you, but I might have stumbled over my walker …
Not really that last bit, but it’s not entirely outside the realm of reality.

We’re in a hot, dry spell here, like summers I remember from the years when everyone I knew was young and invincible and the future went on forever.

When we went upstairs to the clinic, this black heart sculpture was standing in the waiting room. It’s filled with heart words and heart songs and heart quotes. Hopeful, I suspect, is the intention of the piece although the choice of black seems inappropriate. But that’s art for you.

I hope you’re well, and doing well.


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