Author: Frank J. Tassone

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Returning Epiphanies

I re-read a chapter of Zen Spirit, Christian Spirit. All my objections forgotten, as a message I’ve discovered and lost so often returns yet again. My own conflicted nature evaporates like so much dew...

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A Friday Dinner-date

Frankie attends his first after-school trip. Mira and I take advantage of this to go to dinner by ourselves. A short drive to downtown Suffern, and we walk from the commuter parking lot in...

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Period 5 Accommodations

Ki-on carries on. Carmen manipulates. Carlos and Justin complain. Ibrahim defies. Seated in a horseshoe formation, in a corner room, they test me while taking their tests. I feel the familiar sensations: tightening in...

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Water among Rocks

Deftly move through the day. Roll back from Bronx River bumper-to-bumper traffic, failing computers, and unprinted lessons. Stand shoulder-to-shoulder with H: face down a quarrelling Demba—and follow through. Negotiate 9th period alone at the...

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Exploring Peekskill

The traffic is bumper-to-bumper south of Anthony Wayne Recreation Area. A five-minute drive to the first exit for Bear Mountain takes an hour. When we learn the park is closed, due to reaching capacity,...

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Our Dinner with Diane

Our niece Diane and her daughter Mialena join us for dinner. Mira serves us heaping portions of her Jambalaya, with a mixed-green salad and tomatoes on the side. A tangy aftertaste follows the first,...

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Lunch—deferred

All he needed to do was print his answers. But when he plugged his Alpha Smart into the printer and keyed the sequence to print, the device failed. We waited—in vain—for help from Astor’s...

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A Snapshot of Bicycling around Bruges

I can’t remember how I met them. Or their names. They were college students abroad, like me. We rented bikes, toured the city and surrounding countryside. We visited the city square first, where the...

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Belgium Brew Reminiscence

Belgian Saison, a lager served at a Suffern bar with an English pub feel and an American look. Brick-walled, with dark-salmon and mustard-yellow facades. Surrounded by poets, all writing. Do I feel like one...

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Brooms Out Back

The broom rests against the vinyl siding adjacent to the storm door. Its yellow bristles scatter out like unkempt hair from one side. A black foam guard overlays a gray plastic staff. Mira steps...

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Into and Out of

A moth emerges from the darkness outside. A touch on glass, a blurring of wings and it returns. Flying through a reflection of the kitchen, as though it made it inside. fallen leaves on...

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Barton Orchard Experience

A smooth trip to Barton Orchard in Poughquag, NY—until the last 2 miles. A long, stop-and-go line of traffic behind an inspecting sheriff at a T-junction stalls our progress before our last turn. Summer-esque...