Author Archives: Ken Greenman

Comes the moment when you know (though no one else does, yet…) that you Could do It if you wanted to but you don’t so you can’t. When you have the energy you need to do It but all around … Continue reading →

….. a companionable slumber in your hammock with your lover in the cool of your shady back porch of an Autumn afternoon. Not a worry nor reminder of long forgotten job and duty that might have plagued you in the … Continue reading →

The halting steps… the crick in the back… the accidental doze at the desk… these are the inevitabilities, no matter the diets or regimens. We accumulate years and wipe away tears at the graves of those we love. To age, … Continue reading →

I have a quandary. I’d like to go to Heaven if I just didn’t have to die! Like ol’ Enoch and Elijah… They got a free ride to the great by ‘n by! You see, I dearly love my Wife … Continue reading →

…all you need is the will to sit silent and still on your back porch rocker until, as though by magic, a crow, scout for his murder, shows up on the weedy edge of the pond in your meadow. Cautious, … Continue reading →

Situationally, I’m situated in the one situation I am meant to be situated in… That is, with you! Or, (so’s not to end either a sentence or a line of poetry – with a preposition, ie: “in”, I’ll edit the … Continue reading →

… and out there, among the reaches of infinity, float skin-flakes from Gods finger-tips. Drifting there since Divinity was a little child skipping stones across streams of eternity. One flake scraped off, from Her pinky, perhaps, on the rough edges … Continue reading →

In all probability, I won’t die today, I mean, what the heck? It’s 11:21 PM as I write, according to my desk-clock. That leaves me just 39 minutes to break my neck, tripping over my chair in my dark study … Continue reading →

The stillness in front of the storm is not before it, rather, part of it. When the chimes on the back porch are silent, the flat clanger hanging straight down in a breathless air. Not a ripple on the pond. … Continue reading →

So, you say I’ve only left a faith in a hale and hardy hope and if not that, then a weakening grasp onto a chilly liberty granting me the freedom to accept there’s nothing coming after me but a deep … Continue reading →