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It gets me every time.
At our beach they gather.
To honor soldiers, loved ones... ordinary people.
Guards salute.
A cannon is fired.
The wreath is cast into the sea.
It floats away.
Far away.
A lump in my throat.
Sand in my eye.
It gets me every time.
Watercolor, 5x7, SOLD [Massachusetts]
Travel Memories: Positano, Italy
Lemons, roses, olives perfume Mediterranean air.
Pale houses cling on the rocks like shells.
Le Sirenuse islands- one a hideaway for ballet great Nureyev- are in sight. Capri lures in the distance.
My ancestors left their home not far from this postcard coast at the turn of the century. How could they leave?
"Times were hard- no food to eat- no money to live," said my Aunt Theresa.
Now its beauty puts food on the table.
Now- we are here- and they are there.
But it's still my campagnia.
Pastel, 8x10
[SOLD original Georgia, Large Print-Georgia]
A walk in the park.
Teeming with people.
One person sitting Buddha-like.
Under the cherry tree.
Contemplating.
Meditating.
Just thinking.
Separating from the environment.
Becoming the environment.
SOLD Florida
It gets me every time.
