Childhood summers, beach chairs low to
the ground...I'd sit, with toes
in the sand...or toes in
the ocean....and work my puzzles.
I see my dad, his yellow
number two, his folded newspaper and
that crease of concentration that forms
as he searches for each answer.
Monday mornings, alone in a Paris
cafe....just me, the grand creme,
the croissant...and the Sunday crossword.
Countless airplane trips, high above worries
and far from to-dos, with pencil
in hand, I enjoy a crossword.
So, when you want to make
me happy...Find me a quiet
corner, a pencil and a smooth,
hot cup of coffee. Then leave
me with this week's Sunday puzzle
and let me play with words!