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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Sunday, February 17, 2019

It’s a passageway like a tunnel through a mountain


February 17, 2018  (I was 73)

It’s a passageway like a tunnel through a mountain
as on highway 50 when you break through
the darkness within the granite to the light
blue and the spectacle of Yosemite Valley
around you and below you welcoming your descent
beside falling water under bright sun
through bracing air to settle and walk
the floor of the earth connected again 
The boring through that stone night
is a mediation a liaison a brush with the eternal
juxtaposed with the brilliant fleeting relevance to come

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