A fall day like the others, With summer lately past; Two voices on the lake again, As fishing lines were cast. Then we recalled the first time. When I was only five, The air full of excitement, Just to be, to be alive —- That was awhile ago, now. Some twenty years have passed: Then … Continue reading "The Last"
While rummaging, he found a favorite picture from the days that love was new in purpose and in countless other ways; He thought, then, with a smile of how they used burn and smolder, before he put that life away in this manila folder
Be capricious, lavishly; Find a whim and set it free. Jump up on your favorite chair; Stay for far too long up there. Never mind your age or state; Play before it gets too late -- Be capricious, lavishly: Find a whim and set it free
The model life is funny, since It's largely made of standing And looking sad, or joyful, or Excited, or commanding -- Short moments being perfect, like A painting, or a carving, While spending the rest of your weeks and days In working out And starving
Morning soft and warm, Breeze enough, light enough, It is a perfect feeling -- But then again, I am on the shore, Not out there Cashing fewer fish than Will feed my family
When seasons changed, and I knew what it meant, The world and I were one in our intent. The clouds made sense -- their movement, and their grace -- And why a dog finds butterflies to chase Across a meadow seemed to me just right. An empty exercise more than a fight: The things we … Continue reading "When Seasons Changed"
within a secret paradise we gave our time and hearts to further our entanglement in duties, fits, and starts -- we touched the ceiling of the sky, that pure-blue canopy -- so young, and so unwise, in secret paradise. the shadows, once an aqua-green, gave way to dark and gray: we thought we'd never end, … Continue reading "a secret paradise"
I write to understand: Not myself, but others around me -- When I turn inward, I twist and twist Until I end up either in knots Or broken. So I look out to those available to me Of every age, type, and situation, And I seek to know their hearts: Our eyes are meant to … Continue reading "Why I Do This"
"this was never anything," he thinks, as he walks by: "a cottage? or a shed?" he wonders, turning, with a sigh, towards the estate he purchased, and the long walk to the mansion, and shapes his thoughts to tearing down to make room for expansion