Author Archives: Ken Greenman

Bright red balloon, still helium filled, a real lively, airy ball, a party girl to the core, brighten any scene, last seen caught in the lower branches of a dead tree by the train tracks just South of Poughkeepsie. How … Continue reading →

Josephs light blew out last night making Mary a single mom and Jesus, fatherless, except, of course, for God. Then, three nights later, Mary’s light went, making Jesus an orphan, except, of course, for God who is all things in … Continue reading →

We gather around the grave. On our faces, the tears, tight lips, closed eyes, thoughts are revealed. Despair for our loss. Grief over missed chances. Relief, for we continue. Victory over the pale hand, this time. So, we are balanced … Continue reading →

The gap between the tick and the tock is all we have on the face of the clock. In the sum of that silence, a brief absence of sound, is all of our living till our time comes around. The … Continue reading →

No! Please. Not yet the Fall. Spring slipped swiftly by. Summer, but a sigh. Now trees trade their green for yellows, russets. First frost fell hard just yesterday. Canada Geese call. Soon comes winters gray. Crystal coffin waits for the … Continue reading →

Childs play is serious business. Todays sand castle is blue print for tomorrows skyscraper, trumping puny tenements on our cities skylines. Vulnerable sand walls, doomed against inevitable waves, will, some September, stand strong against the surge of another Katrina’s wrath. … Continue reading →

Plane travel is different. Pillow clouds, quilt farms, flat sheet ocean. Trains allow for fast flash photo, details suddenly appearingdissappearing, close observations, rushed by but registered on the retina. Today it’s the Metro North Hudson River Line. Pin tailed duck, … Continue reading →

There is no tiger in the hall, hidden behind the bedroom door. No snarling, no growling, no awful roar, no claws that shred and maim. There is only life. An ache, a pain, strife, a son,40, at home, a daughter, … Continue reading →

I spent yesterday shredding Mother in her bank statements, medical records, nursing home requirements, medicare bills, collections of old Christmas cards, hundreds of magazine pictures…. What did I save? Birth certificate to date her start. Marriage license to prove, maybe, … Continue reading →

Dear, dead Dad said, “Life: the accumulated non-fulfillment of our expectations.” But he was a walking drunk, a functioning alcoholic, drowning horizontally as he swam out beyond the surf line. Sometimes, sober, he started to look on the dark side … Continue reading →