A Line of Cars Led by Flowers

A line of cars leave the funeral

led by one sprouting too many flowers.

Driving slowly, headlights on, ignoring the stoplight,

some passengers serious and somber, others laughing.

Hopefully, all for the same mournful reasons.








Like the environment where the grapes grow,

we each have soil, topography, and climate

in which we grew that imparts characteristics.

Like wine, we age, growing richer until

we don’t. A dusty bottle cellared forever.

read more about terroir



Ophelia was only twenty-two.

They say she drowned in a small brook.

A branch broke and dropped her.

Unlikely – both the branch and the shallow brook.

She was sad. Perhaps, mad.

The brook, to the river, to the sea.

Not death but part of something larger.

Fresh water. Salt.


Doppelgängers – someone who looks just like you –

German “double-goer” once ghosts of the living.

This apparition of a living person means,

if seen as yourself, you’re about to die.

I met myself today. I’m still here.


by Dante Gabriel Rossetti “How They Met Themselves” (1860-64 circa)