Back In Our Happy Place

My quietness has a man in it, he is transparent
and he carries me quietly, like a gondola, through the streets.
He has several likenesses, like stars and years, like numerals.
― Frank O’Hara

Pic not this trip, but the only change is that can of Foster’s. And some clouds.

There WAS a red wave in Florida. A real crimson tsunami. My wife, a registered Democrat, actually said out loud as she sealed her mail-in ballot, “I can’t believe I am voting for Charlie Crist.”

Sometimes it comes down to candidate quality, like Moscow Mitch said.

Mid-November typically finds us seeking tropical tranquility.

A whole different world ninety minutes from home.

No dogs even.


It’s the space between the notes that makes the music.

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