a friend of a friend shared Turkish saffron,
Who knows how old
Not quite vibrant enough for Lucia buns yet
Comforting in hot coffee.
How can there be so much to love and
So much to mourn
In a small cup
In a small world?
I’ve had some contract work keeping me away from my own writing, but the garden has been plenty busy on its own…
So we spent three hours or so, not blowing glass, but trying to match an ideal sound, trying to shape air columns and vocal cords to make moments of [impermanent] crystal beauty. “Match my color and tone”, said the conductor, and we did our best.