Its Eagles

I watched the first half of the SB, by then you knew the outcome. I then watched Michael Savage on Newsmax and then All creatures great and small on PBS. By then it was 40 to 20 something for the Eagles. I never saw any DOGE commercials. As usually most of the commercials, halftime and anthem were terrible.

 

To profundis

 De profundis 

Poetry in image

And should I enter sharply defined

How would you know it is i

But as I enter hidden in sublime

Would not you know immediately

I've arrived

Home by dark

 

Crawfordville

 The beginning of the love. Before the  turn of the century, on March 19, 1896, John Milton Towles married Luceil Rehwinkel of Crawfordville. She was 18.  For his new bride, he purchased two Camellia bushes which they planted in their front yard on either side of the porch steps of the then new home on Aaron Road, built by the former slave, Mr Louis  Gavin. John Milton Towles died in 1930 at the age of 60. Lucile never remarried and lived alone in the home until her death in 1977 at the age of 99. In her later years before going to a nursing home, she was blind. Her cane marks on the floor could be seen. Years later, in the early 1960's,my father purchased Mrs Lucile's  home along with her two Camellias. When my father sold the home in 2000, someone came and dug up the two bushes. I trust they are still alive somewhere in Wakulla County.

My world

In my world

Every house a little pink house

With plenty of greens just outside

Lots of cotton candy in the field

And grass to park on rebelliously 

Goats galore to worship with 

Come Sunday

See, in my world

I’m quite happy. 

Conestoga

 Last night we went to Alachua to get the car keys we left in Williston Sunday. We ate at the Conestoga with Billie, Rochelle and Diane. Mel paid. I drove home. 

Slippery when wet

 The river reveals the ramp

Dowling Park

Suwannee

Turn

 I have come into the world , not to determine reality, but to turn upside down reality.

Bird man pigeon holed

 At the Gallery one asked me so what made you or when did you become a bird photographer? It was at that point I said to myself, gee, I got to start taking less bird photographs. I don’t want to be known as a bird photographer.

Becky

 And He walks with me

Often I reflect upon her in the perpetual chair

From a teen resigned to dwell there

One wrong overturn consigning

To a sitting suspension

Of what man was destined 

To sweep her off her feet

When now not knowing if 

The feet are even asleep 

Not even a tingle

No pain 

Just dangling below

Constant reminder 

If only the curve was taken slow.

Remember

 Remember

Remember beneath the half moons

The time of the full moons

For in the darkness of the no moons

It shall bring hope of coming moons.

Mammy fantasy

 TBT

Something just didn't seem right about what I was seeing. I could not place my finger upon it. But mammy was seeming to be enjoying eating the greens beyond the ordinary. With the mayonaisse spread liberally with pot liquor swelling the cornbread, I had seen that closed eye look before. Be it in the Saturday evening R movies or the Sunday morning glory shouting,  it was a look incongruent upon mammy, whom I held above such ecstacy in her stoic, reserved prudence. But there it was, with every slow bite the closed eyes, as if she were again lying by that Itchy Spring in the time her blush was roughed.  Her flames over a lifetime doused with the hair in a bun, dressed completely to exile sinful flesh, all fallen so suddenly in the sopping of the collard greens.