About Alison Leslie Gold

Posts by Alison Leslie Gold:

Now and then, deja vu

NOW: [Photo by Ian Thomas Jansen-Lonnquist for the Boston Globe of Mahasen Khatib, a Syrian refugee who is settling her family in Rutland, Vt. with two of her children] SYRIAN REFUGEE FAMILY SETTLES IN VERMONT CITY AMIDST UNCERTAINTY  Excerpt from ARTICLE BY Brian MacQuarrie Globe Staff  January 29, 2017 RUTLAND, Vt. — Ahmed Khatib and his wife, Mahasen,(…)



It was dark when we arrived, and the fields of black lava were covered with snow from the largest snowfall ever recorded there. My two sisters and I had discussed taking a holiday together for years. With the clock ticking faster now, we figured we’d better do it soon and chose Iceland in February/early March. We drank coffee(…)


In a pickle

Glad you’re in this pickle jar with me, old friend. You too, new friend; and you over there and there and there and across the sea and over (also under) the rainbow. In a Pickle We’re in a pickle We are, we are And what’s worse is The pickle’s in a jam   And then we wonder(…)


Playing hooky

Last night I spoke at an event inside grand old St. Bart’s on 50th and Park. Afterwards I began meandering and (though I hadn’t planned to) eventually walked the entire way home, about four miles. It was winter, a bit blustery, stimulating; the streets weren’t crowded, late-working folks were leaving work or heading somewhere, hurrying decisively, criss-crossing to and fro(…)


From Belarus to New Zealand

The instructions were: Pack lunch/dinner and snacks and bring water Make sure you are hydrated Get a good nights sleep the night before No back-packs or bags – exception: 1 clear bag 12 x 12 x 6 gallon, one bag 8 x 6 x 4 Bring cash Bring credit card Bring cell phone battery back-up Bring(…)


Aunt Dorothy is One Hundred

Excerpt from “Lost and Found”* published in 2010 as part of the Cahier Series by AUP Press, Paris, France and Sylph Editions, UK in honor of what would have been my dear Aunt Dorothy’s 100th birthday: Both sets of double sheets are gone from the white linen trunk. The door to the little freezer compartment(…)


Milosz in Krynica spa and tonight

I first read Czeslaw Milosz while hiding out in Krynica spa in southern Poland at a hotel called Paradiso. I read him again now while hiding out on the twelfth floor – 12F. Milosz encountered strong headwinds through his long life, especially during the Warsaw years. He wouldn’t mind, I’m sure, if I borrow from the ballast he acquired(…)