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, March 25, 2022

The remains of my mother were buried today

 

March 25, 2015  (I was 70)

 

The remains of my mother were buried today

 

When he became the rose she became the brier

His heart blossomed her skin toughened

When petals fell she preserved the fragrance

in the very root of her yearning soul

Intemperate times strengthened the thorn

Attempts to wrest her hold on memory

met by stinging barbs of comparison

until after years no similes were needed

staunch years brittle and worn

Leafless sixty-four springs later she rests

next to him with so much to tell

 

No comments:

Post a Comment