when winter seems to go on and on,
and there is no light to be seen
at the end of the proverbial tunnel,
remember that once we get thru
this bleak, colorless piece of road,
we will find ourselves poised on
the edge of a much longer stretch
that includes fragrant spring flowers,
those long and lazy days of summer,
and the colorful beauty of autumn–
and that’s a pretty fair deal.
–photo by me
a cocky young spider named joe
would crawl up on top of the snow
he thought it was cool
but he was a fool
and soon had a date with a crow
–photo by me
when winter temps drop down too low,
the redpoll burrows into the snow–
i pay my rent before it’s due
so i won’t have to do that too
–photo by me
jack frost lends mother
nature a fine white coat to
cover her bare limbs
–photo by me
–photos by me
It was around 4 AM when I pulled my 240 ton production truck onto the dump, backed up alongside the catskinner, and proceeded to dump my load. Suddenly, night became day as the box came in contact with a 10,000+ volt overhead powerline. It blew out the windshield, gauges from the dash, and three of the tires, not to mention my mind.
I sat there in the smoldering truck for about half an hour as I waited for an electrician to come and give me the all-clear to touch the metal and climb down. Just as I began to walk away from the truck, it burst into flames. My guardian angel was working overtime that morning; nobody could really explain how that happened.
out of the trodden
depths of hell,
the mighty brute
i rode,
and so appeased
the metal beast
with yet
another load…
–Photo not by me
in the dark
before the dawn
eos slips
her mantle on
and madmen dance
out on the lawn
spin, scuttle, clop
for in the light
a toothless grin
or sunken eye
or drooling chin
betrays the madness
deep within
spin, scuttle, clop
and as the damning
daylight spreads
they waltz their way
back to their beds
to dance all day
inside their heads
spin, scuttle, clop
–image by ai
there is no
need for traffic cops
on forest
roads like these,
for out here, the traffic stops
are made by the trees
–photo by me
I stand here at the hotel window
And look down on a mostly empty street
All Lit up under a mostly cloudy moon.
I can’t believe how desolate it is now;
A few years ago, this place was booming.
This street would have been one big
Party on a Saturday night back then,
And, regretfully, I would have been one
Of the drunkest of the party-goers.
Now, those days are a blurry memory.
Tomorrow there’ll be plenty of folks
Down there on the street, shopping
And greeting each other seasonally,
But tonight it’s so dead, the only thing
Changing is the one lonely traffic light.
I must admit, it makes me feel a bit
Lonely too, but at least I’m not drunk.
–Photo by me
I love old barns, and this one may be the granddaddy of them all. I found it in the Northwestern corner of Minnesota, just a few miles from the Canadian border.
…and there it was,
this grand ol’ barn,
reminding me
of that ol’ yarn
about ol’ noah
and his ark–
is this the place
he chose to park?
–photo by me
michaeljordahl 