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 24, 2019

With no return to report to those who never left


from this week in February 2016  (I was 71)
                       
With no return to report to those who never left
the voyage of exploration becomes one of immigration
the report a memory of that left behind
to those with whom we have come to live
They find it difficult to relate or care
about things that are not there
The insight inferred how similar it would be
to return to strangers left at home
The realization that no one now
counts us among their numbers
a nation unto ourselves
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