Cake: our atlas. Cream, scones/ and tea, chat and finger snacks: our/ cultural topology. AdvertisementsRead more "Bloomsbury, London"
With great events we map our histories/ but on little moments we trace our lives.Read more "Baden Baden, Germany"
I’ve charted bits of sky now,/ Sky that is far from home./ Hiked through misty mountains,/ and slept on a mattress made of foam.Read more "Skye, Scotland"
Spiritual map?/ Paint in the cracks/ unobtrusive signs/ echoing in old cement cornersRead more "Paris, France"
Smelled fresh bread/ and dreamt of Paris./ Its cheeks were caked with petals./ Its fingers, glazed with gold./ Its eyes were bright and pleasing/ Aphrodite. Respirait l’odeur du pain frais/ Et rêvait de Paris./ Des pétales recouvrent ses joues./De l’or enrobe ses doigts./ Une lueur de vitalité anime ses yeux/ Vénus.Read more "Paris, France"
I see the fiction in the colors/ the myths in the masts/ that go over breeze/ and undertow.Read more "Stockholm, Sweden"
Though her words are simple and few/ listen, listen she’s calling to you/ calling to you from the steps of St. Paul’s,/ remember the hungry. Feed them all.Read more "St. Paul’s Cathedral, London"