Monthly Archives: October 2021

A way of knowing is the choice to believe there is a realm beyond, as real and rough as Redwood bark, as strong as Hazels wind. But frail, bending, bowing to the choosing. Without, that realm is beyond our sensing. … Continue reading →

(To be sung to the tune of ODE TO JOY) At one time they were the heroes Oh! How now we scorn them so! Black and Brown and Red and Yellow push back from their CASTE below! Myths de-mythed and … Continue reading →

Just sitting still. A lost art. Rediscovered in retirement. There is a soft southerly breeze spinning the garden spinners slow and easy, and playing on the deep throated Woodstock chimes hung from the live-oak branch. I am dozing on the … Continue reading →

A book’s like death. Sneaks up on you and Bang! The old you’s gone forever. But you died slow, page by page, and a new you, hidden, is uncovered, chapter by chapter, slowly, like the slow slide in the agonized … Continue reading →

She was the looney-toon of our gated community. laughed about, neighbor to neighbor, part of the necessary initiation for any new arrivals, just to warn them off, keeping her isolated, a plague, quarrentined. So, when the smell was noticed by … Continue reading →

I’m getting used to letting days slip past in a long stream of unaccomplishments, just pulling the sheet, blanket and flowered spread up to the unfluffed pillows only by habit, when, before, we’d even the edges and lengths of all … Continue reading →

Look. I like the world and all, but I like it better without hearing aids. I’ve been becoming deafer daily, for years and had my aids installed just a few days ago and DEAR GOD! THE NOISE! Did you ever … Continue reading →

How tiny the seed that birthed the great Sequoia, General Sherman, the oldest, the largest, living being, dwarfing the mamouth Blue Whale, towering above the sun-seeking-rain-forests of the Amazon. Did the soil cradling the seedling know the sacrifice it was … Continue reading →

At last! Comes to full term, Night, with all her hopes for what her daughter, Day, might bring, births Dawn. What light noon may bring to the world is known by Days first mornings tottering steps and by what power … Continue reading →

I’m an old white poet who loves to write poetry from the heart and open-mic my art to crowds at the Art Works some listening, tolerantly while others are drinking wine and laughing at the bar because I still hear … Continue reading →