Was it spring of 67 or 68 when we cut
class to bottle Phil’s beer? 68 because
you were out of the dorm, into that house… 199 more words
2 weeks, 6 days ago
I wasn’t born yesterday.
~The Way of Mrs. Cosmopolite, T. Pratchett
I was born years ago in a snowstorm,
butt first, which explains my perspectives: 58 more words
1 month ago
What is this life if busy as hell
We have no time to sit and smell?
No time to sit beside the bogs
And smell as long as cats or dogs, 121 more words
1 month, 1 week ago
ON LEAVING FACEBOOK: part II
I went there
when I was lonely or bored.
As if it were a place
like the back porch of my house… 227 more words
1 month, 2 weeks ago
THE FEAST OF ST. FRANCIS: leaving facebook, part I
It is right that on this day–
remembering his nakedness, his simplicity,
his begging bowl, the broken church, 42 more words
Mother died seven years ago.
The haunting has ceased, perhaps
because I can see her
more clearly at this distance,
her brave smile, so like mine, 7 more words
1 month, 3 weeks ago
A STITCH IN TIME
. . .saves nine.
Can you stitch time? Catch
the threads and pull it together?
Mend the little tears that happen— 67 more words
2 months, 1 week ago