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.


Comments Welcome!

Tuesday, June 11, 2019

I Call My Name


June 11, posted. –written June 20, 2016
from this week in June 2016  (I was 71)

         I Call My Name

Chachalacas with maracas
Out of sight Bob White
Never fear the imperative Killdeer
as he rarely does
Odd wit with Godwit
Not still the pill-will-willit
Self-accused cuckoo
Whip-poor-will poor Will
Flick flick flicker
like an old lighter
Chickadee dees from chickadee
and warbles from the warbler
Kiskadee kiskadee flycatcher
Feebly Phoebe calls phoebe
Pewee pee-widi Pee-oo
Hey hey Stellar Jay (who can talk hawk)
Where pipit flies pipit cries pipit
So doth the flock
Posted by at
Labels: ,

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)