Late Summer


Summer scene, Washington Square Park, Greenwich Village, N.Y. Photo by Howie Lisnoff.


Late Summer

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.



P1020002Photo by Howie Lisnoff


The grass falls in legions

Beneath the spinning blades of the mower

It is high spring

And green

I have been mowing grass since childhood

First responsibility/chore

My father assigned me the lost rolling hills of ancient memory

I stood behind in those days

Now I sit over sweeping hills of

The Berkshires

As in those days

The cut grass is sweet and emerald green

Spring’s the right time

In the vastness of this universe

For love and mowing

A footnote of youth and age

An in between

To the beauty of those leaves of grass

Falling in legions once again.

Open Road/Do Not Try This At Home


Open Road/Do Not Try This At Home

Brian and I in the heavy summer rain


Tailgating tractor trailer/ New Hampshire highway

Night of youthful fearlessness

In the wonder of the White Mountains

Bedrolls lashed to the backs of our machines.