Francis Rosenfeld

Francis Rosenfeld

I garden, I write and I watch the world go by.

Scott: Crit

Sometimes the world gives me a garland of fears, a skin-vexing hair shirt, a bucket of tears. Sometimes it allows me ineffable cheer, the beauty of heavens, the music of spheres.

Anne: Lunacy

Have you ever watched the moon rise on the ocean on a bright summer night when all the stars are out and by their light alone, you see your shadow?

Barry: Innocence

We are in life for just a while between time and eternity with no navigational instruments, no sextant and no chart; we live in context.

Hannah: Fingers

Fingers tapping on the table, on the forehead, on the window, shuffling papers thin as tinfoil, pouring corn flakes, wiping mirrors.

Amelia: Garden Story

Sitting at the table under the tree canopy, a book in one hand, the other mindlessly rubbing your temple, you lose track of time.

Episode

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