Category: articles
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Juggler of Fire
Two torches one hot as a candle minutes from being extinguished. The other hot as a fire that has no end in site, amazement. Juggling, with fire. Burns me. I have to drop one I can drop the fire that will blow out in an instance …
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GEE MONEY!
Yesterday on a walk, I saw a dollar in the grass next to the soccer field. Typically, I pick up cash I see on the ground. I don’t know exactly how the universe operates in regards to this kind of thing, but walking past orphaned money without making the effort to collect it seems like…
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Children in the Trees
In the end, it never ends.There are red toads everywherethis summer and the children playthat game where they stomp them,then switch each other with hazelbranches and run to the forest beforeGod has a chance to see. You can’t reasonwith the brats and you can’t tell their fathers.What would you even say to their mothers,whose hands…
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Reflections — a composition for piano
How do we overcome the struggles, difficulties, temptations, and obstacles in life? For me, it’s wisdom; and it can be found in many places. If you look carefully enough, there are many phenomena in our daily lives that impart wisdom to make us more learned. Other than practicing mindfulness, my contemplative practices are an amalgamation…
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Six-Word Stories
Arachne’s web Weaved her terror’s image Midas rejoiced And hugged his daughter Pandora wept Over an empty box
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Christmas Out On Route Thirty-three
Well, well, well, now just whatever did I see,Chuggin’ along out on old Route Thirty-three?A Panda Bear in a Honda – could it be?And he was pushing a big, old, blue RV. His paws on the steering wheel seemed out of place,As did the fuzzy smile on his fuzzy face,Beneath his Santa hat with a…
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Saying Goodbye to Books
The writer stared intimately at their life’s works. They were the embodiments of effort and time. Calcified bones rolled out of the chair and removed the books from the shelves. Shuffling back to the desk, the writer fell, clutching their time, into the cushions. Hours passed as the yellowed pages turned. Words flowed through eyes…
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The Old Neighborhood in Winter, A Villanelle
The marriage, the move, my divorce,Lovers come and gone, the children grownNow on city streets of joy and tears I walk alone. Some bungalows and Tudors in renovation,Others with lamp-lit windows where memories are sownMarriage, the move, my separation. I do not shed nostalgia, or weep at daysGone by. My memories are honed.These city streets…
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Retirement Reading
I read more now than I did whileI was teaching. I’m not joking: I can pick and choose from any shelf in my study, sans guilt, sans deadline, duty free. I read three cats’ minds. And my neighbor’s lips. The first and last pages of Finnegan’s Wake. Listen, just before tea I read the tag…
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Sign Read CLOSED
And yet, somehow, the day remained open.The bark you touched finished your thoughtslike a stiff drink. Sometimes, all you could think aboutwas a merry-go-round. Sometimes your eyes saw greyand looked like wood smoke. But this day was the colorof being pulled on, of driving too far East. A house, a house,another house, and then a…
