by Jim Farfaglia Moving Pictures Nowadays we slip in a DVD and watch stories on a small screen, hoping they’ll dazzle us – but they’ll never match the movies we saw at the State and Avon Theatres. The larger-than-life epics played at the State, their grandness filling our imaginations; while the Avon offered(…)
Do You Want to Know a Secret by Jim Farfaglia Walking the streets of a new morning, whistling a Beatles tune; surprised how easily it comes to mind. Feeling its melody pick me up, returning me to the soundtrack of my youth; moved by those songs of long ago. Recalling John and Paul’s(…)
by Jim Farfaglia Painting a Picture Thank you, honking geese, for interrupting the routine of my busyness; inviting me to lift my eyes from this computer and witness something greater: the grace of your V-shaped story line, the neighbor’s dog leaping for you in chase, the trees that reach to tickle your bellies(…)
by Jim Farfaglia Nature Knows The potted plants are being attacked; their soil suffering wound holes, their dirt strewn ‘round the porch – someone’s using them for storage. The local groundhog drags a belly grown full from his foraging, making once last trip through my yard – using himself for storage. The(…)
by Jim Farfaglia November Time The days arrive later, the sun breaking through the long night to shine on frosted backyards. From his highest perch a songbird waits for daybreak. Deep into the morning, he finally sings. Leaves count down the days, falling toward winter. They pile up, the world a giant(…)
by Jim Farfaglia Halloween 1960 The school bus is minutes away. Our kindergarten party awaits. My Freddy the Freeloader costume is in a brown paper sack, but lacking one thing: his floppy, torn top hat – and I cry at my incompleteness. So you get right to work with construction paper, cardboard and your(…)
by Jin Farfaglia On Rainy Saturday Mornings On rainy Saturday mornings we’d get up early, my brother and I, and make our own breakfast: hot cocoa and toast with extra jelly. Then we’d tiptoe to the living room, turn on the TV low and flip through the three channels, amazed at all the(…)
by Jim Farfaglia Walking Song My feet, in a musical mood, keep a steady 4/4 time. The neighborhood dog, with his throaty growl, fills in the bass notes. A distant hunter, from his echoing gunshots, adds some percussion as the songbird, through the lilting air, carries our melody.