Category: for someone else
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Savannah
He wanted to ride off into the sunset like Hopalong Cassidy always did, but he lived in the midlands And he had promised himself that he would retire someday to Savannah and riding off into the sunset Led into the mountains and mountains grow cold in winter and he feared he may die alone In…
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“Why not say, hi?”
“She seems to know you.” “Yes.” “Why not say, hi?” He swallows a bite of the pastry we’d just bought from the girl at the counter. “She’s from the neighborhood and I had sex with her four years ago.” “And you can’t speak now?” “She had sex with all the boys; it was just my…
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a narrative poem
she said, “I’m leaving” he asked, “Why?” she said, “You’re too pessimistic” he said, “I told you statistics say we were doomed to fail” she said, “I’m still leaving” he asked, “Why?” she said, “I can’t live with a fortune teller” 10-24-21
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Understanding Robert Frost
(for Tim Conroy) Sometimes It’s good to take the road Less traveled Walk in woods Where no one goes Stand behind a tree And flop it out Because old men Need to pee a lot 9-17-21
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Walking meditation with Thich Nhat Hanh
1) moss comes green on the morning after rain halfway to your destination not wanting to crush haploid to diploid dance you stand paralyzed 2) a crow lands on a limb above your head shakes chill water from leaves you continue on in a village of plums bloom words “each mindful step, reminds us that…
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for Jane
I journeyed to Cedar Creek to visit a friend She made me lunch, talked of her children memories of her husband plans for her house and yard She introduced me to her friend who lives on a hill through the trees We walked home through the woods she showed me all that was and all…
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poem for her husband’s passing
She wrote It’s been a long journey He passed away this morning I’m ok Our son is here for a few days Family and friends support me Due to COVID There will be no service, but some day In the future, we will gather for stories and food Love to you For your friendship all…
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Room 511
I didn’t walk yesterday, ordered out for wings, didn’t cook or lift weights, went to bed before 9, told myself it was just a nap. 4 am, I woke from a dream I had been sent to Room 511 to prepare a patient for electro shock therapy. I untied her gown, strapped her tight to…
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In my veins
In my veins, my parents walk hand in hand reading letters written across the ocean of a world war. I look out with my father’s eyes remarking on the country he fought to preserve and the sad state of his Grand Old Party or with my mother’s eyes to see what season it is and…