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Poem – House on 7th Street
A two-story white house one window blue-framed large oak tree in the manicured yard, planter with purple flowers sways in the gentle breeze. Every hour or so the front door opens and a man holding a coffee cup emerges – cigarette lit, he watches traffic on 7th street. From this distance across 7th street, sipping…
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Poem, Thoughts – Roots
Where do you come from? Not from 5-minutes ago, or from your vehicle, but the essence of you, what time, experiences, and place gave you the foundation of who you are? Where are your roots? I did not come money, I came from Northeast, Minneapolis. And so begins the story melding with the present and…
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Story – Tunnels Chapter 3
Tunnels of My Childhood, Chapter 3 By, Felice Scrittore Photo by Twisted Root Studios My cousins and I were playing in the basement but because there was not much to do, we quickly became bored. I went to the doorway that led into the cellar storing all of the canned harvest from the summer past.…
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Story – Tunnels Chapter 2
Tunnels of My Childhood, Chapter 2 By, Felice Scrittore Photo by Twisted Root Studios It was on this hot day that my greatest adventure began. You see this community also was once famous for bootlegging during the prohibition of the 1920′s. In this area there are many tunnels that run under the sublevel of the…
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Story – Tunnels Chapter 1
Tunnels of My Childhood, Chapter 1 By, Felice Scrittore Photo by Twisted Root Studios It was a hot summer day in 1967. The kind of sultry heat that curls the leaves of the towering ancient oak tree in the backyard of my grandmother’s house. The wind was strong but not strong enough to give relief…
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Return
This has been a quiet weekend, with time to get caught up on, well, life. A recurring theme with thoughts and what is transpiring around me is the neighborhoods people grew up within, traditions, and returning to our roots. I grew up in NE Minneapolis, attended Lutheran church, and tried to survive the taunting of…