Bicycle tires bump along cobblestone streets en route to pilfer Queen Anne’s lace from between green constructions walls.
A bicycle pedal bruise spreading over my shin like a rosa rugosa flower, smushed flat.
Roofs glint silver from six flights up. Down below, there’s a blow-up kiddie pool in yard with a chainlink fence.
Prayers to St. Joseph, the patron saint of questionable apartments, whispered over bowls of pink Himalayan rock salt.
A palo santo ember in the hands of an unlikely practitioner is a birthday gift, two ways.
Recent internet searches:
Replacement pink tile towel bar holder
1950s brass doorknob >
smaller than average size >
delicate
Cap for old-fashioned tub external tub drain >
drain overflow pipe >
standing waste pipe replacement parts
Trend forecasting 2026: Atomic age meets Shaker peg rails.
Pavlovian response from canvas duffle packed to get toes in sand, grass, gravel.
The farther from the city, the greener the marshes rushing past train windows.
The deeper into summer, the longer the library holds list.
Bicycle tires bump along dirt roads to pilfer Queen Anne’s lace from next to blackberry thickets.
41.
Nothing at all like 40 and exactly the same in every way.
Happy Birthday! Thank you for helping us all focus on the small joys along with the hard facts. Your work has meaning.
Wishing you the happiest of birthdays! I love how in a few words you make summer in your world come alive. Glad you are out of the city for a bit. I hope it's restorative with all you've had on your plate.