our minds are built unique
with a sole, subjective view;
you cannot see reality
the same way that i do.
some say that it’s a blessing,
some say that it’s a curse–
but every mind designs a kind
of homespun universe.
–photo by me
i have some choice words for my cat,
like messy and spoiled and fat,
and yet i would say
in the slang of today–
she’s also adorably ‘brat’
–photo by me
it took me thirteen
billion years to write this poem–
i hope i like it
–the universe
a bear eating bugs–
he sees me and considers
a change of menu
–photo by me
walking among wildflowers,
i feel especially fortunate;
so many of my friends
never made it to my age.
i would say this to you:
when the woes of the world
weigh heavily on your shoulders,
put them down for a minute,
let the sun shine on your face,
breathe in the fragrant air,
and remember to be amazed.
oh yeah, and one last thing:
take every opportunity to go
walking among wildflowers.
–photo by me
the sun has gone down–
now comes the grace period
for homebound stragglers
–photo by me
Dylan’s Highway 61
Heads up to Thunder Bay
And hugs the rocky cliffs that run
All along the way.
Today, under a pleasant sun,
Our families come to play–
To get away and have some fun
On this Labor Day.
–Photo by me
3 a.m., can’t sleep–
if only there was something
uplifting to do
–photo by me
life is poetry–
a free-flowing form
of self-expression;
line by line,
our lives
pass into poems.
some are sonnets;
others are odes,
haiku, epic, free verse.
some take
a tanka turn–
i think mine must
be a limerick.
–photo by me
so lovely in their innocence,
the wild hops upon this fence
give off that old familiar scent
i knew in drinking days,
and if i wasn’t on year three
of self-imposed sobriety,
perhaps the hops would trigger me–
i’ve truly changed my ways!
–photo by me
