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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Thursday, July 16, 2020

When dogs at night stay out of sight

from this week in July 2012  (I was 67)

 

When dogs at night stay out of sight

I know you are near

When the moon sinks in a cloud

you cast a ghostly glow

Feeding on hope, feeding on fear

fog on the ruins you in the shroud

absorb the light  Hear a growl from the dark

Ghastly slow at last I know you are near 

I will the moon appear

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