INDETERMINATE BREEZE, STONE FOUNTAIN By Carol Frith, Sacramento, CA I have separated myself from the letters of the alphabet, from the stone fountain in the neighbor’s yard. I have forgotten what it is I need to know, what mysteries I need to listen for. I will parse the sentence of the afternoon, each word drifting like a frail leaf on an indeterminate breeze. Were my French good enough, I would translate my unrest into perfectly modulated French phrases. My French is no longer good at all. I shall put aside my small book and think of how long I have lived my life in youth. In age. I shall wear a warm scarf and contemplate the passage of the quiet years. I shall put on a modest dress and walk the neighborhood, counting pairs of courting flickers in the tulip trees. I shall focus on the clean beauty of time in its increase and time in its diminishment. I shall face the east to say my daily prayers. I shall walk until the evening turns to stone.
Carol Frith takes her on-stage bow with the dancer, Wanda Ingmire and the on-stage reader, Natica Angilly