Sunday, February 6, 2011


Yesterday morning we were slurping oysters at J's, slung just above the bay in Portland, Maine. High tide and fat gulls and engine oil and fish grease and a white winter sky, and the light over the oil tanks across the harbor, and friends. And pointed firs, and a dark winter sea, and cobbles, and dark, wet brick. Hard to avoid noticing the light in that city, all the time. The sea changes color as the sky does. And then back in Brooklyn, snow tamped down by rain, foggy tail lights on the BQE. Stars are up there somewhere, behind the pink night sky. A package unwrapped from Harbor Fish - fat scallops still fresh in their sleeve of ice. After the girl sleeps, we eat them one by one. Mouthful by mouthful, the Atlantic.

1 comment:

  1. this sounds like love. enjoying whats around you. something that comes from the body the beauty that we share with all living things and our endeavors, we really aren't so bad , our intentions and our ability to love, such extremes we feel as we tumble at times through our lives. in our bodies here and now, each moment a gift. follow your heart girl... poppi