Who will sit with me
Will you sit with me
Listen to the tales I tell
Of a desperate life in need

Who will hold my hand
Will you hold my hand
Without any pretence
And even less demand

Who will sympathize
Will you sympathize
When you finally see the real me
Reflected in my eyes

Who will wipe my tears
Will you wipe my tears
Save them in a mason jar
For use in later years

Who will be the one
Will you be the one
To help save me from myself
And all I have become

dead bodies floating
in our oceans
from the Asian Pacific
to the Mediterranean

crumpled corpses lying
on our beaches
thousands drowned unknown

overcrowded detention centers
not unlike concentration camps
behind barbed wires
guarded by police and snarling dogs

nobody feels responsible

not  those who started wars
destroyed whole cities
made millions homeless
and into refugees

not those who take advantage
of the chaos for their own gain
abusing the names of their gods
or some ancient figurehead
to excuse their atrocities and greed

not those who live
in comfortable homes
and wish the desperate crowds
would just stay on the TV screen
and not come close

nor those who pretend
to be the guardians
of our great humanitarian heritage
but show no backbone
against nationalist fanatics

it is the shame of the world
to sit and talk and watch
and not do enough

those who turn away
the needy and homeless
could also
      quite suddenly
lose their homes

forced to rely
on the kindness of strangers

Early morning in Putnam county , blue  , pink and yellow sky at daybreak  on a frosty November morning , freezing temperature exposing our breath as we alert the beagles of our presence.......The beagles know !!!!
Shot gun loaded , dogs released into thick Georgia pines and water oaks , depth perception and distance obscured . Within minutes the baying of the hounds begin , long and drawn , further each second filled by high pitched whimpers signaling the start..Song of rural Georgia , my Uncle and I on guard , the pack alerts the hunter of the cottontails arrival ....
We double time in the direction of the baying , the quarry is returning from start ,frozen ground crunching beneath our boots ....The dogs have returned , a single shot is fired and the contest has ended for now but repeated several more times that day....We return red faced from the cold ,  the smell of gunpowder and tobacco . The beagles at rest , we prepare our harvest for a feast at a later date ....Back indoors , coffee and a good day of hunting !

Beautiful green fern,
you took up residence
in the empty planter
out back.

Coming up each spring,
Growing bigger each summer.

Don’t go yet...
Don’t die for the winter!

i am enjoying your lush green
company every day,
too much to be told.

Soothing balm to my eye,
Soothing balm to my soul.

I spent a day sleeping, or at least
covering my face with a blanket.
Then night came around.
And my body ached.
My mind was preoccupied.
I thought of all the ways I could
take my life.
I've tried pills, but I always throw up.
I don't own a gun, but I've
done the research.
But one thing I did do was fashion
a noose, from a blanket that couldn't
cover me. I placed it around my neck,
and thought of where my life was headed, such a joke conceived for
an ill person at their wits end.
Now I lay on my hands, keeping them
from being idle. After I rub my neck.
Waiting for the courage to ignore the
value in the little things.