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!

Friday, January 15, 2021

Ocean ends

 

from this week in January, 1972  (I was 27)

 

Ocean ends

clutching sand

grasping rocks

Over neutral shells

that man walks

past stiff star

and fly-infested fish

He walks the fringe

The sea reaches

the mind reaches

The sponge dries

Slowly

sun fingers

fall from the horizon

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