Originally written December 2022
April is the cruelest month. —T.S. Eliot, The Waste Land (1922)
Anyone who would pick up an anthology of english poetry would likely find T.S. Eliot within its pages. Specifically, one would find his remarkable poem, The Waste Land.* Published in 1922, it is often dubbed…
The Forgotten Image
The seats in the lobby by the neurosciences hospital are plenty, but only few people occupy them at this hour. It is 4:45 eastern time, and the winter clouds had blocked the warm glow of the sunset which usually blankets any interior at this point. The glass…
A sculpture stands, a painting appears, a photograph is taken. We appreciate their beauty for a while and leave taking nothing, so we look for more. We wake, go to work, go home to do it all over again in the morning. Or perhaps we abandon the desk job to…