
the female
pheasant has plumage
resplendent,
but males have
marvelous murals of art–
to capture her heart!
–photo by me

the female
pheasant has plumage
resplendent,
but males have
marvelous murals of art–
to capture her heart!
–photo by me

i love
new notebooks
with all those creamy
white virgin
pages
all
strung with
thin blue lines
on which to hang my
freshly-washed
words
and
i like
to imagine
what great stories
could hang out
here
–photo by me

the overnight fog
lifts without looking and gets
hung up in the trees
–photo by me

–photo by me

now winter arrives
in a flurry and promptly
erases the fall
–photo by son aaron

–Photo by me

veterans day
has slipped away
like men and wars
they fought in,
but i’ll display
my flag each day
so they won’t be
forgotten,
and though it’s worn,
begrimed and torn,
its wounds do not
disgrace it–
yet on that day
war goes away,
i’ll happily
replace it.
–photo by me

things that
get left out
may develop
damaged
souls
–photo by me

I’m back up at Lake of the Woods for a week or so with my son Aaron. We’re winterizing his place, and he helps me stay on the straight and narrow; I’m starting my 6th week of sobriety today.
It’s a beautiful morning.
–photo by me

the great cosmic screen
is lit up tonight
with a rippling green
ethereal light
like curtains unfurling
a dancing delight
swirling and whirling
all thru the night
–photo by my son aaron