A telltale language spoke wordlessly,
beckoning evil.
somber with grief so tearfully,
loud with appraisal.
thoughtful, deductive,
fiery and wrathful,
happy, violent,
talkative,
yet silent.

A telltale language spoke wordlessly,
beckoning evil.
somber with grief so tearfully,
loud with appraisal.
thoughtful, deductive,
fiery and wrathful,
happy, violent,
talkative,
yet silent.

2020
who knew,
good vision,
but much division.
So unlike
1961,
my decade one,
upside down,
right side up,
the year was right.
No need for fight or flight

That day in May, when I was young, I met the one. He was new in town, starting life on his own, looking capable and grown. I, the waitress with long dark hair. He, the customer, so handsome and kind. We smiled, we talked, we made a date. Followed a summer full of sunny days at the beach, with bonfires and dancing in the evening light. But only one year, then he had to leave. We said goodby as he left for war, hoping survival was his fate at that door. Battles do damage to peaceful and serene. The body returned, thinner and lean. followed more slowly by an injured soul. Eventually the hope returned, some healing did arrive. We married joyfully, gratefully sharing decades of life. He is always the one I am so happy to see A survivor, my husband and protector of me.

Those thoughts are trouble. Can't leave your safe place, making you abstain from life. What magic will make them leave? So you can get on with actual living. They are tools, not destinations. Stand outside yourself and there you are. Free to avoid absence, perfectly good again. Present.


Wandering and gathering
on a cool sunny morning
in grand bountiful fields.
Tasting and savoring,
filling the baskets
with layers of blue on blue
round and delicious
pretty sustenance from nature
Forever is just an illusion.
Transient makes a much better friend.
Forever will lead to confusion,
believing some things will never end.
Eternity can be quite useless,
if your lover must go off to war.
When affairs are seemingly hopeless,
hope lies at the impermanent door.
Perpetual seems like a promise,
a collusion in desperate times.
Beauty of briefness too many miss,
renewal is our purpose sublime.
Temporary will always be there.
It’s the reason we even are here.
If all should become static and rare,
forever would be our supreme fear.

Thanks for joining me!
Good company in a journey makes the way seem shorter. — Izaak Walton
