I don’t write in a journal everyday, but I have accumulated many entries over the past 50+ years beginning in 1966. Some items evolved into longer works. Among the leftovers little pieces survived. I thought a collection of these with a piece culled from the same date in a past year would make an interesting yearbook. The consistencies and inconsistencies of mind, skipping back and forth across time, provide varied perspectives. It is difficult to remember the context of the past we’ve lived; we also make suppositions about times that predate ourselves.

The few alterations from original drafts were to improve clarity. The worst of my work is not included. There remains enough mediocrity and immaturity to make me feel humble and you feel smart. There are also moments of accidental insight and incidental humor.

Author Stephen Crane referred to his little pieces as pills…apparently they were small and somewhat hard to swallow, but good for you.


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Saturday, June 9, 2018

I drove to the library


June 9, 1975  (I was 30)

I drove to the library
past a kid squatting at the roadside
surrounded by tools and the rear flat
of his ten-speed.  At his age
I’d have never got it together.
I returned some books
scanned the headlines of the papers
and drove back thinking I’d load the bike
into the van and give the kid a lift.
There he was tightening the last nut.
I stopped anyway and told him why.
I asked how long it took him.
He smiled and said he didn’t know.
I said good-bye, he said thanks anyway.

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