When times are difficult, I write poetry. When times are good, I remember history. When the day is long, I think of geography. The rest of the time i muse upon theology.
That is why mostly I need to study more psychology.
Tuesday, June 16, 2026
I write
When times are difficult, I write poetry. When times are good, I remember history. When the day is long, I think of geography. The rest of the time i muse upon theology.
The moment of one fall
the moment of one fall by john clare
Is not it the proof of God,
that only I saw it fall,
and even thought at all,
of one leaf in the yard?
And days since that fall,
and a million leaves later,
I esteem this one no greater,
yet single it out above all.
Only God could give the man,
sympathy for the one leaf,
help us blind in unbelief,
to recall the leaf and understand.
Redeemer
Redeemer by john clare
Moccasin silently slid along beside,
Limpid-eyed hare struck a frozen pose,
Lanky-legged raccoon hastened stride,
from this foe they know.
Came a man laden down,
in shadow the slithering snake,
in failing to slow and look around,
on his leg the snake did partake.
Hare lived to eat more grass,
Raccoon washed his meal that night,
for the man, while his life flashed,
Moccasin recoiled at the bitter bite.
In the darkness slithers a man-slayer,
it was a strike never meant,
the creatures marvel this redeemer
man whom heaven must have sent.
Magnolia moment
Magnolia moment
The magnificent magnolia blossom is for only
a moment opening in the still cool morning
giving its scent as bees visit the marvelous
shades of white so quickly turning in the
warming light until by the end of day we
reflect how this brown array was so soon
ago upon the nadir of its glory.
Felco 3
Felco 3’s
Melanie asked what I wanted for Father’s day
And in my mind I thought back wistfully
Of the happy opening of boxes with ties fine
Of little boys handmade cards signed
The good dinner of bacon wrapped chicken
All so undeserving
And since I no longer need the tie thankfully
Handmade boys now grown and gone sadly
Walking about the yard slowly
Daddy’s Swiss made Felco pruners with me
It occurred perhaps it time they retire
Preserve them for the possibility of future
Needing
Long after I’ve gone
Few recalling to whom they belonged
How they served so long
So I’ll see if Lowe’s or Amazon has the Felco3
With the rotating grip
Easy on the hand for less blistering
Store my fathers in a safe place
Perhaps with some written history
Who this man was we called daddy.
On the wing
On the wing
We saw them in the distance out in the fields
A wonderful soothing breeze so we pulled
up under an overhanging shady canopy
and got out to watch the display
when out of no where it seemed
a swallowtail came too close for focus
went down the dirt road a ways then
Turned and flew straight to us.
It was a moment of slow motion
over as rapidly as he came as he
again disappeared
Lou Witt
Lou Witt was an artist.I visited her home to deliver oxygen once and got to see some of her work while living.
Mt Pleasant
I visited the Mt Pleasant Church again after a thirty or more years hiatus. Little has changed other than the portrait was missing over the door and much more water damage has occurred. It’s a matter of time for its demise.
The sirens
The sirens
In the days of old Williston High in the late
night the fire siren would hauntingly wail
long and frenetic at the station through all the town until one or two of the volunteers were mustered from slumber to crank ole engine two and off
to the rescue they’d go.
Today as we drove slowly past a soon gone old Williston High, emanating from the remaining structures was a strange siren like sound, haunting.
In the night long the siren will call, but in these
latter days, no volunteers will heed this siren.
The old gym door a thousand times I swung will go to a particular pile, the fast break from the
past complete.
Sing me the song of Williston again, sing it for those
fortunate to not see the day of the siren wailing.
So glad
So sad, so sad, he missed the sun
So glad, so glad the rain has come.
For without the rain
The sun would fry his brain
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