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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Tuesday, March 3, 2020

Finding the way strewn with stones


March 3, 2019  (I was 74)

Finding the way strewn with stones
that man fled lightly and quickly across them
Through a driving snowstorm he trod
upon the indentations of those gone before
reaffirming footsteps for those who follow
Across the rope bridge over the river
one bare foot carefully in front of the other
tried the resilience and influence of sway
At a crossroad chose without hesitation
between paths worn really about the same
knowing either led exactly where he was to go
Passing within a village or city he came to know
his destiny was not a destination
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