So much light.

It will be cooler today.

So many babies trying to make their way over the blades of grass.

It is always so good to be in conversation with her.

“The questions are surrounded by answers. And the answers are surrounded by questions.” “I just want the facts!” “What would my hat say now?”

Sometimes it’s the actual conversation itself that is a poem.

Seeing her face always makes me happy. It just does.

Parmesan cheese. I grab a mask and my card. This is my first time in a grocery store in more than two months. There are three police cars in front of the store. They just seem to be talking so I guess whatever it is that brings them all here is of no concern. Everyone is keeping their distance though they seem to be ignoring the one-way signs.

Yes. Cooking does make me feel better: homemade caesar dressing, another batch of fresh pasta, homemade red sauce. If I was the real deal I would have milled my own tomatoes. Alas, it’s not tomato season yet.

I tell him that when I talk about the diversity in whatever new town we choose, it’s not really about diversity as much as it is me gauging our safety.

I tell him that I have nothing to say because I’ve already said it all before. I’m tired of having to repeat myself.

Rosé and Zora Neal Hurston in the tub. Open window. I can hear the palm trees blowing in the wind.

A Different World.