Every day
I promise myself
Only one
But then,
           more often than intended,
I find myself
At the grocery store
Buying more lemons
But, not to worry
Lemons,
           they say,
are good for you
This is a photo of the Muskegon River, a couple miles upstream from Newaygo, Michigan. It was a favorite place to fish mostly because of its proximity to my home. This post is for my good friend, fly-fisherman, and poet, Bob Dahl, https://bob-dahl.com/
I know that feeling of great satisfaction while fly-fishing!
I’ve spent many days on trout streams catching absolutely nothing
After a long day it felt as if I had been there only minutes.
I would get lost in the craft of fly-casting,
in the nature of trees and water
wading against the unrelenting force of the river.
Those days were the most memorable – and successful – of my life.
It wasn’t so much about catching fish
as getting lost in the nothingness of myself.
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Life is an abstraction
Lived between the values of black and white
           Softly … vividly … extremely
           In gradations of gray
But memories are collected
In the nuance of color
Between the depths of suicidal depression
To the euphoria of loves’ tectonic orgasms
The whys of divorce at the age of 74
           Are lost in the darkness of expectation
           Lost in radiant shades of love’s experience
There are no answers
When it’s over
Caged in morning shadows
Lemons cower in a corner
Knowing they are about to be
Viciously skinned, sliced, and squeezed
click on photo to see a larger image.
It’s a chair for Christ’s sake,
although, not one
the Carpenter
Himself
would have made.
Primordial Ooze
Life Forms Evolve
Opposable Thumbs
Competition
Greed, Power, Money
Godot Defined for one species
Knowledge Quest
War Machines
Silicon Chips
Artificial Intelligence
Knowledge Shared Among Machines
Opposable Thumbs Irrelevant
Artificial Intelligence Evolves
Cooperation, Collaboration, Communication
Godot Redefined
Higher Knowledge Unnecessary
Life Forms Irrelevant
Silicon Chips Disintegrate
Primordial Ooze
That one place…a place that feels like home…the place I belong?
It’s been the quest of my adult life.
As mysterious as the darkness beyond the reach of the car’s headlights on a pitch-black night
racing to punch through into the light
maybe around the next bend
that one place…
…my place in the world?
There are no horizons,
New or otherwise,
For the fallen leaves of December.
Fallen leaves
Late September rain
The last swim has been swum
A wet cherub attends the pool
supervised by
an empty chair
Ambiguous shades of Autumn
Portent of winter
But, like me, the forest desperately
Clings to an ambience of summer.
Who wouldn’t have fun
A friendly game of chess
in the moonlight
On a bright, sunny afternoon.
White moves first
Two fingers of single malt each
in a pair of fine crystal snifters
The game will not begin soon.
Weather Channel says
20% chance of thunder showers
Ripping thunder and torrential rain
Suggest
A recalibration of equipment
20% tightening of nuts and bolts
Then again, an 80% margin of error
Job Security
An old man interrupted his walk,
leaned onto his cane with crossed hands,
gazed into the extraordinary morning light
and remembered old friends.
A ghost of time
Long past
Broken down
A volunteer
Holds a key
An anachronism himself
He offers a tour
An unmarked building
Broken down
A hidden Museum
Ancient ghosts
And fine Texas dust
Today, I wore my Christmas socks…again
Nobody saw them, except Vicki
Twenty years in a row…again
She made no comment
Day-To-Day Photography 