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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Monday, September 21, 2020

Cabin 89 Sunol

 

September21, 1971  (I was 26)

 

         Cabin 89 Sunol

There’s something about wood

that makes me feel good

Walls stained only with age

ceiling and beams

exchanging breaths with me

open and receptive

rather than painted reflective

I believe they release energy

to make room for mine

and what I breathe of them is fine

old images mellowed myths

fit for ballads sung with lutes

secure fables from the past

Truths lived here seem to last

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