Glass Grapes (2016)
“—William Shakespeare, Sonnet 116 Too grim is what we all thought about Sam, Samantha, too caught up in endeavors to be artistic, thrusting poems at friends and strangers alike, ignoring the everyday stuff of what can be gathered up, the babies and jam jars and peaches from the front tree and this year finally the figs. I want it all—the sideboard, the antique mantel, the optician’s equipment, the plein-air paintings, the tools, the copper pans, the hostas and cyclamen and agapanthus. Sonja says... stop. She says stop cramming up the rooms, give some to the kids, but I can’t stop, can only stop the pounding in my chest when I stand for a moment before going out the door and count up the plants growing to the edge of the greenhouse, the rugs now piled thick on top of one another, the rare and the ragged, playing their geometric patterns off against one another.
What I can’t do, even after my now half days at the office and my regular tennis matches with Jay and even riding the bike around the pond, is sleep.MoreLess
What I can’t do, even after my now half days at the office and my regular tennis matches with Jay and even riding the bike around the pond, is sleep.MoreLess
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