A Time I Can Place
Below is the illustration and text about a mild winter in my old neighborhood, and collage prints inspired by the story.
A Time I Can Place
A time I can place
Of bricks and concrete,
Long rows of living quarters,
Sidewalks stretching for miles.
Corners and crosswalks
—Connect—
Connect the blocks placed next to each other,
And fit within the confines of each square.
A mild winter is here.
The sun reveals itself around the edges,
Its light beams onto blacktops and ball courts,
and lays a long silver blanket upon the rows of car tops.
I walk these miles, my girl wrapped close to me.
My steps map the stones and buckling slate
from stubborn old tree roots.
Across the street, I see a friendly smile—the old woman.
Her white hair falls down her back in a long, thick braid.
She is standing in front of her building, stabled on its stone steps
And lit up by its flickering globe light posts.
My girl is sleeping, and I have a window to speak with her.
She motions to me:
—Come in, come in—
I follow her through the doors
Into warmth—away from the cool greys around me.
Large old rooms, books and paintings, years of cherished friendships.
Hot water for tea, and she mostly talks.
I take in the richness of her paintings,
The happiness of all that sit on the bookshelves,
and the presence of a precious cat.
She asks me if I know my neighbors,
The writers and novelists, professors, and painters.
I don’t, but I am happy to know that I live among them.
—My girl stirs—
Time to move. I stand to go, invited always to return.
Outside the sun take its light as it sets;
And I carry my girl home.
The next time I see my old friend, it is the following winter.
She has stationed herself outside her building, selling her knit scarves.
Colors pop out from the grey stones with her rich yellows,
pinks, and oranges on the table in front of her.
I buy a pink one, and I’m unsure if she remembers me.
—I remember—
I remember her—she is forever in my map of footsteps,
of slate and brownstone, and blacktops and ball courts;
old stubborn tree roots disrupting the miles of sidewalks.
My prints from this book were exhibited at the ‘Little Black Book', a juried exhibition at the Mills Pond Gallery in St. James, N.Y. To purchase art prints or the booklet, please visit the shop page.
