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, June 11, 2021

I Call My Name

 

from this week in June 2016  (I was 71)

 

         I Call My Name

 

Chachalacas with maracas

Out of sight Bob White

Never fear the imperative Killdeer

as he rarely does

Odd wit with Godwit

Not still the pill-will-willit

Self-accused cuckoo

Whip-poor-will poor Will

Flick flick flicker

like an old lighter

Chickadee dees from chickadee

and warbles from the warbler

Kiskadee kiskadee flycatcher

Feebly Phoebe calls phoebe

Pewee pee-widi Pee-oo

Hey hey Stellar Jay (who can talk hawk)

Where pipit flies pipit cries pipit

So doth the flock

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