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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Friday, March 19, 2021

The instrument intones

 

from this week in March, 2014  (I was 69)

 

The instrument intones

the life of the player

Notes are conscious breath

the breathing your song

Play your flute for me

No sound vibrates wrong

Energy occupies matter

in compatible manner

Like a flight of doves

we love in the morning

that airy existence floating through us

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