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, April 29, 2022

That time

 

April 29, 1974  (I was 29)

 

That time

the train stopped at this unfamiliar station

(whose name we have already forgotten)

we stepped onto the platform

Through the transitory depot

we entered the stationary world again

But by this time we understood the subtleties of travel

We knew the lies of relativity

so we laughed at vehicle trees

In fact that thought remains most vividly

connected to our arrival-

vehicle trees

 

We are settled now into summer

What was apprehension is confidence

We are secure and we cannot be intimidated

There are no nightmares there is no darkness

The neighbors are polite they admire our garden

We’re giving all our money to the poor

The weather is amorous and the beach is secluded

We wonder now why it took us this long

Though the oaks have slowed

they remain reminders of our

recent travels

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