Crab Chips photo by Lynda Fletcher

Ooh, Gross!  Does anyone think these are good?

Amongst the brick cobbles of Portland’s quiet Pleasant Street sits Artemisia Cafe.  “Coffee no cream, please.”  At these tables pulses culture.  Art expands, contracts, and, we, hope, expands again.

A stained glass fish, half red, half yellow, causes the patron to ponder the struggle of artistry and what it becomes for so many.  Inside this cafe, in this fleeting moment, art stands.  One of the few of the many.

Moist brownie.  Strong coffee.  It pays to wander the streets of Portland.

By the Seashore

I sit

In the drip of fog

The haze of day

The wail of gull

The brightness of soul

Replenished

Mashed potatoes

Brown Gravy

Pot Roast

Tender

Juicy

Thick

Brown Gravy

Sourdough

Dig In

Gulls adrift.  To and fro.  To and fro.  The afternoon fades into crisp evening.  Dressed in his gray and white, a gull poses atop a brick chimney, a perch in my view from the Holiday Inn.  Coffee’s scent drifts from the pot in the room.  WCSH’s Peacock splashes colorful competition with the gray and white flock.

Egg photo by Paolo Neo

Sunnyside up

Two eggs

Sourdough toast

Crisp, salty bacon

A dab of boysenberry jam

French roast

And the tang of a tall glass

There were two Rolos in my drawer.  “Were.”  Caramel, gooey, gone.

Wet driveway

Pitter-patter on the trees

Thirsty grass sips

And sips some more

Wet world

Wet summer day

Strawberries grow ripe

Climb the vine

To the sun

Strawberry Season

Fresh and Red

Fresh and Red

Sweet and Juicy

Cotton Candy.  Stick to the fingers.  Each bite stickier and sticker.  Each bite-careful, keep my fingers dry.  Cotton candy.