remembrance
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Remembering
i sit at a windowin the restauranton the 20th floor of my nyc hotel cold, february night snow piles in gutters below frozen streets reflect homeward headlights i look down on the 9/11 memorial park two… Continue reading
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Mom’s Birthday, February 28, 2013
She would have turned 93,were she alive. Is it okay to say,"Today my mother turns 93,"or can one no longer say this,when the body is gone?In such cases,there is nothing to turn 93.A buried box of ashes?Even that likely no… Continue reading
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Grandmother’s Farmhouse
After she died,grandmother's farmhouse–without anyone's intending it–evolved into a shrine,a monument to our lost history. Untouched, year upon year,it dusted over,much like, every week,the oak table that anchored the kitchendusted over with flour on baking day–only everywhere now–thick on painted window… Continue reading
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Aurora, CO, July 20, 2012
Take nothing you lovefor granted. Text and image © 2012 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved. Continue reading
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Reflections on Good Friday
Good Friday.Tenebrae.Encroaching darkness,stillness. We gather to acknowledge loss–the loss of Christ on the cross,that great loss that echoes, honors, confirms our own.Tonight wraps us in loss.Tonight we wear the cloak of loss.Tonight darkness sweeps the earth without the promise… Continue reading
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Good Friday, 2012
Nowseewhatyou'vegoneanddone? Text and image © 2012 by Dirk deVries. All rights reserved. (With thanks to Jim.) Continue reading
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Screen Door
From where I sit at the worn oak tablein the center of the kitchenat the heart of the house,I see the sunset–orange, gold, red, yellow–perfectly framed in the warped screen doorleading to the back porch,where the railing leans outward,and the… Continue reading
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Mary Magdalene at the Local Bar
Imagine my surprisewhen my server that winter evening,is none other than Mary Magdalene–the Mary Magadalene. She brings me my next cup of wine–red, thick, the color of blood.Candlelight swims through. I resist the temptationto ask the obvious questions;celebrities are people,… Continue reading
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Everywhere at Once
Somewhere in our late-November neighborhooda dusty hearth cradles the season's first fire.Someone stares into those flames,cloaked in forest fragrance,holy as high-church incense. I close my eyes, inhale,am everywhere at once. Text and image © 2011 by Dirk deVries. All rights… Continue reading
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The Dresser
The dresser(in which reside my underwear and socks)is an antique,formerly owned by my sister(now deceased). Sometimes at night,with only a candle burning,I wish with all my heartto see her in the flecked, speckled mirror,to observe her pulling back her hair,putting… Continue reading