
the sun slides away–
featureless silhouettes seem
to squirm and shapeshift
–photo by me

the sun slides away–
featureless silhouettes seem
to squirm and shapeshift
–photo by me

God’s message about
your near-death experience:
Can you hear me now?
–Photo by my son, Aaron

Beyond our
Earthen carousel,
The stars,
In vast array,
Light up
Our cosmic carnival–
The twinkling
Milky Way.
The fairway
Teems with stars,
Perhaps
Five hundred
Billion strong;
Look up
And see the galaxy–
It’s open
All night long.

summer has come
people will do things
mothers will cry
–photo by me

“Sidetracked”
–Photo/Art by me

two-faced dragonflies–
they only hang around us
for our mosquitoes
–photo by me

–Photo by me

“Grampa’s in Heaven now,” Gramma lied.

A loon’s eerie tremolo echoes across the crystal-clear waters of this old, abandoned mine pit. A diving bird, he’s just surfaced, and is eyeing me warily, but to fly requires a long run-way for take-off, so he’ll probably just dive underwater again, and pop up somewhere else. His mate doesn’t answer; she’s most likely diving for fish now.
The rocky ledges of these old mine pits provide the perfect habitat for nesting and breeding during the summer months. To top it off, the DNR stocks most of these pits with Rainbow Trout.
Apparently, he’s not as afraid of me as I thought, and he calls out to his mate again in that long, forlorn wail. This time, she answers.
* * *
the tuxedoed loon–
in proper attire for
a banquet of fish
–Photo by me