Summer scene, Washington Square Park, Greenwich Village, N.Y. Photo by Howie Lisnoff.
You walked on Charles Street in the heart of Greenwich Village, your signature sandals against the wet pavement. Our steps echoed magically within the endless city noise. I thought, too cold for bare feet, but you persevered long into the waning season. Perseverance would become your moniker. These were the days of great change and great hope when idealism and fearlessness were indistinguishable. I look across the room at you today, still beautiful in a world of unspeakable horror and ugliness.
Route 41 South, Sheffield, MA. Photo by Howie Lisnoff
September’s country lanes
Had filled with goldenrod and Queen Anne’s lace
Down through the Berkshires and Taconics
To Wassaic Station.
There is something that fits a train station in September
You can see both ways
Back into the comfort of summer
And ahead to the promise of cool fall
It is like the reunion and the leave-taking
Illuminated by giant Cyclops’ light of diesel engines
A metaphor for the eternal emptying of life.
Photo by videezy.com.
Cricket chorus breaks in silence intermittently
Pale full Strawberry Moon rides the irregular edge
Of pine forest
On calm breeze.
You left after sunrise
Slept in beauty and with great intelligence quieted
In those early morning hours
Gentle rise and fall of your breast.
Waxing half moon
Climbed over treetops
Like the solitude of summer forest.
Photos by Howie Lisnoff
Dame’s rocket took up residence
Beside country lanes
And at the edge of newly furrowed fields
Sentinels to the arrival of summer
They will soon disappear
Their hues of purple
Seize the day
Everything is emptying endlessly
This beauty and life
Photo by Howie Lisnoff
Harbingers of other weather
Blew in from the west/southwest
On crystalline skies
Across the Berkshire Hills in the warmth and closeness of high spring
A perfect natural world amid imperfection.
Photos: Howie Lisnoff
Cycling into the rising hills of the Berkshires
The new season giving up its ancient secrets
Newly budding distant mountain vistas
Soft and quiet breezes at their summits
The gentle bleating of sheep
Image retrieved from the Internet on March 14, 2015
March 2015, Undermountain Road, Berkshire Hills
Along the winding country road of the Berkshire Hills
The late-winter rain turned the rolling and snow-laden fields and meadows
Into great foggy phantasms
That distorted the landscape of ancient trees
Creating a closeness that was abiding
And brought ghosts
And memories of long-vanished and transitory beings.