Photographs: "My Cronkite Toes"

I call these "My Cronkite Toes" pics. About to lie flat on my back on this four-poster bed. Try as you might you cannot fit me into a round hole.

                                               About to lie flat on this four-poster bed 

                                  in the Garden District neighborhood 

                                  of New Orleans, I ponder the meaning of life.

There is foliage in the background.

 I am trying to fit myself into this recycling bin at the Union Square Whole Foods Market.

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Poem: "When I woke up your eyes were on me"

When I woke up your eyes were on me,

like a gentle rush of waves,

as if you had been studying me this whole time,
my face an open book

(even though i was feigning sleep)

your eyes

set into the
palette of your familiar face,
your lips curved into a curious smile

and you blinked

and I yawned and complained, wishing I hadn’t  fallen asleep, but I had
done so

and 

and then without a word you closed your eyes
and went to sleep again

and I, ever the paternal wannabe,
touched your back
and prayed you would be alright

and wished you were still awake

so the story could begin where we had
left off

our eyes leveled near one another,
lolling softly another to sleep,
bedtime stories fulfilled

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