Main T.o.C. Change Resist Ground Art

Alison Luterman Ocean like the color opal, and the good man beside me in the overheated van full of wet bathing suits and tired children and potato chips and sand, says Looks just like a postcard, don’t it. as the horizon catches fire as if someone had poured a thin line of gasoline running across ridges in sand and over water lighting it in gold to mark a path for the setting sun to follow. The teacher says one day you wake up and greet everything as your own face in the mirror. Hello, stray Mexican dog who lives in the dump where people build houses out of abandoned tires. Hello, flower-faced young mother who arrives early for a free breakfast of sugary oatmeal a couple of children in tow. Hello, good man beside me, my friend’s husband, whose cancer surgery last year makes his eyes soft now, driving back from the beach, kids piled in back, shivering and giggling, all wrapped up in damp rainbow towels.

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