Frank J. Tassone

Tag: photo

  • DC/Shenandoah ‘21 Travel Notes (Day 1, 7/3/21)

    A 5AM rise. Breakfast. Packing. A 6:30 departure for Camp Rodney in North East, MD. Three hour trip. We meet little traffic, stop at one rest stop, and arrive at the designated parking lot for Troop 21’s campsite. After a week away, we see him arrive with his friends. He sees us and smiles. breaking…

  • On Any Given Day

    Somewhere, a white butterfly floats above greenery in garden beds. A neighbor’s dog barks at whatever triggered it. Afternoon birds continue their tweets and chirps, hidden among a canopy of maple leaves Somewhere, boughs sway and leves rustle. A chartered jet flies overhead. Sunlight brightens on the backyard’s mix of freshly mowed grass and crabgrass.…

  • Nightmares like this: a #Tankaprose

    A respectable woman, sipping tea with others women of her station, exchanging chuckles and pleasantries. No one remarked when she excuses herself from their company after a certain server passed by. She passes through the crowded chamber, down the labyrinthine corridors of the grand vessal, until she comes to a small, cramped chamber. A brief…

  • Solsticing

    The canopy of maple leaves bathes in sunlight on the Summer Solstice. Still for a moment, the legion of leaves ripple lie a stadium crowd doing the wave. Despite the abundance of daylight left on this longest of days, afternoon shadows creep across the front yard. The street already basks in the shade. I’ve spent…

  • Curious Conundrum: a #Quadrille – #haibun

    What could it hurt, right? I have nine lives, after all, or so they tell me. And I always land on my feet! I have to know. I have to know! I don’t care what curiosity does! Because I know what satisfaction does. revelation We’re satisfying our curiosity with Quadrilles over at dVerse. The Pub…

  • “Madonna Peak…” a #tanka (5/31/21)

    5/31/21: oil painting inspiration (5/27/21) Maddona Peakreflected on the surface ofSterling PondDo you remember whenwe reached her summit? #tanka #micropoetry #poetry

  • il mio villaggio

    Four square miles of single-family homes in bucolic neighborhoods. Nestled among myriad Maples of forest along the foothills of the nearby Ramapo Mountains. Often equated with the larger, more famous village to her west. I have an ambivalent relationship with her these past 17 years. Nevertheless, this village is my home. Montebelloa maple-lined street leadingto…

  • A Lunar Consolation Deferred

    I hold your face in my hands. Your eyes hold that glint of tears that they refuse to unleash. They are tears born of regret over decisions made, and fears over future prospects. I can only hold your face in my hands a moment before lowering them at your gentle touch on my wrists. If…