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, December 24, 2021

The barber sits outside his shop

 

December 24, 2011  (I was 67) 

 

The barber sits outside his shop

making sure no one gets in

people pass on the sidewalk

as quickly as they can

those who know him force a smile

without speaking

he says looks like rain

and bitter cold I say

he says I like it

without speaking

he belies the religious paraphernalia

the salvation he keeps on display

inside the deserted shop

outside a Rodin Saint Peter he sits

stone sentinel guarding a dubious heaven

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