Teaching ... myself

(To the) Elderly woman behind the counter in a small town: Hey, Soul Sister - Do you remember? Sunday morning (being) All alone At the beach(?) November rain. Buckets of rain Welcome me (to this) Shelter from the storm (or) Wake me up when September ends. Just give me a reason (to) Feel the silence. Somewhere over the rainbow I'll take my chances With or without you. Mercy. Universally speaking (its a) Beautiful life Don't ask me why (but) I've loved these days. Goodnight, my angel.

I'm not the hero I never was nor a songbird cloaked in black Fabled angels in our snowy woods have never left a track Now I'm free to feel the presence... or absence of myself I'm free to taste the highway salt off the long road back to health Now in your so-called "freedom" where I am who I am the me that we've forgotten  subsides into the din And so, in wordless melody My snowstep presses in... I fold my wings against my spine and wink a knowing grin to the hero that I never was nor will ever be again.

School is winding down spring has come. Peg gave birth to a new bull calf - who the kids named "Mac".  I am milking again and it's a nice return to what I am comfortable with.  The windows in the house are finished and tomorrow I plan on putting in the front door.  Even though I made the door, we spent $200 on hardware... Amazing.  I can't wait to put that sucker in and open it for the first time.  The door weighs more than I do. Adia turned 8 the other day.  5-10.  She was so excited about her birthday... Her birthday breakfast was bacon, cheesy eggs, and Belgian waffles.  I finished just in time for lunch.  We went roller skating with our great friends, Jason and Emily... whose daughter Claire was also celebrating  a birthday on the same day (same age too!)  That evening we had a great dinner, opened gifts, ate a homemade cake, and did the worlds slowest rendition of the happy birthday song:) And as a final update, the 165 lb door I made was put in thi

I think in words.  I try not to, but I do. But words can make me feel sometimes. I suppose that is why I like lyrics.  Words set to music are always poetry.  Poems aren't always lyrics I think.  But either way, poem or lyric, the musical nature of it makes the words ... disappear... And I am able to think without words.  Wow, that is irony stepping on the edge of the staircase down to crazy.  But that is the relief of a song... Or a poem.  Below is neither. "Insomnia, of course" My thoughts run wild tonight. My brain is tired but sleep is a good friend I haven't seen in awhile and one that I have no expectations of running into anytime soon.  I wonder where you went and what you do in the absence of the day, my friend.  But you are just another loss softly raining down upon me.  All the classics... Youth, innocence, naivety, childhood, friends, strength, my shoulder, fitness....hair....and now you.  I used to fall so easily into your embrace, without a care or a thoug