The soil supporting growth
has long since been rinsed
down a muddy arroyo
to some alluvial plain,
someone else's loam,
ripe for seeding.
Roots were exposed,
gnarled fingers aching
for firm grasp,
finding air
and just enough wishes
to remain suspended
in place but not in time.
A place to stand under,
and understand
the stand of trees
nourished now only
by memories
of warmth and moisture,
the gentle showers
of tears and praise,
the embraces
of worms and earth.

There's a mirror in the bedroom
in it stands a dying girl
fading now, her skin transparent
pale beneath her crimson curls.

Standing there beneath her heartbreak
weighted down by the love of man,
enchanted by her slowing heartbeat,
love lies bleeding in her hand.

Deep inside she holds a secret,
words that form a heavy cross
with brittle spine it's weight she carries
fearing judgement, feeling lost.

There's a mirror in the bedroom
at my broken self I stare
shaking now, I'll start erasing
till I am no longer there.

Bones of dreams remain,
picked clean of pretense by the
winged passage of time.

April 24 2010 there was a Boy Scout display in the parking lot North of Mickey Ds and by the Imagination Station. Tony was fascinated by many of the displays. The Sheriff’s Office was well represented with several displays. Tony got to climb up on the rescue boat, the one we see going by our house frequently in the summer to fish someone out of the river. The two Sheriff’s Office Deputies in charge of the boat were really good with the kids. About 15 minutes later Tony bent over the bow of the boat, I was on the good ole solid ground, and said to me, “These guys are really COOL grandpa.” I said, “yup, they are.” and looked over at one of guys. I ask, “Did you hear that?” With a big grin he said, “I sure did.” He had a big grin on his face for a while. Tony debarked and headed to new territory. I have to have speedy shoes on to keep up some days. I wish I could find a pair of those.

Later we were at a different car on display. The people there were young intern or trainee types wearing the Sheriff’’s Office shirt and hardware. Tony had bailed out of the armored car where he had been playing for 20 minutes and was standing next to me watching the young group yucking it up. They were loud and horsing around some… with out the horse. All of a sudden he got a scowl on his face and said in a rather loud voice, “Grandpa, those are NOT real cops. Why are they wearing uniforms? They should not do that.” Well that was hard to explain and I was hoping “they” did not hear what he said. We left rapidly.

I guess he thought they were not acting the way officers should act. At least not like the COOL guys at the boat. I suppose that comes from trying to instill respect in the uniform of peace officers. The lesson is one each of us needs to remember. If we say we are (fill in the blank) then we had better act the part or we can lead an impressionable young mind astray. So lets be COOL.

That’s my story and I am sticking to it.

The sheer power of your words
the cascading beauty of shimmering
images crashing upon my very being
erodes a deep pool of peace
where I float finding respite
from the triage of living

lay down upon a spread of softest down
on shore nearby perfumed
with blooms of memories shared
fascinating, lovely, thorns and all

an exhilarating walk along jagged cliffs
built from volcanic eruptions;
emotions buried for years
beneath the surface
given fiery breath and freedom
their peaks frosted with
gentle cooling snows of perspective

rolling meadows of gently whispering
reads roiled by imaginative breezes
subtle sweet-grass intimations
soothe an overheated mind
and balm the inflamed heart

this is the world we have created;
rejoice, and be glad in it.

She wove a ring of Magic
and wore it like a crown.
Dancing in the Moon light
when no one was a round.

She wove a ring of Magic,
a spell that no one knew.
She casts it over Mortals,
the ones she wants to woo.

I have a love for hatred

Since you clipped my wings

I wasn't trying to get away

But now I want to leave

If there's no trust -

How is there love?

How can you judge my dreams?

All I wanted was to be loved by you

Now only hatred is left for me

Come, take my hand and walk with me
into the blinding darkness of
unspoken fear, unfelt, unseen.
I cannot hope that you would love
the journey, only pray that you
will stay to love the company
you've kept.  Your touch, your comfort through
the night which rises every day,
and darkens daily will be needed.
Fevered fear enflames my skin,
constricts my throat, a breathless plea
to stop the strangling from within.
The Spirit uses you as peace
to strengthen me for what I face.

to be the first person,
singular
to write of
one's experience,
the essence of
life's own blood,
the pulse of people
coursing through
the constricted byways
of coronary cities,
the exclusive cancer
of cliques
voracious, feeding
on those around them,
to observe
humanity
with a certifiable,
clinical detachment
without use
of the interminable,
insufferable
first person
singular.

The Boy called Tony by his grandpa and others, lights up his corner of the world. Be it kids or very old Big Kids,(adults who are kids at heart) wherever he goes, “Hi. My name is Tony. What is your name?” Usually following this introduction, if the response is received warmly is, “How old are you?”  Than after that is decided, “My grandpa is really old.”

Kindergarten year saw the two of them at the Arctic Circle most days after school. The older “Big Kids”would see him come into Arctic Circle and wait for their turn to talk to the Boy called Tony.

Many times they stopped at Tony’s and Gpa’s table and talked before leaving. New people who had not talked to him before but “listened in” on Tony and Friends conversation, they would then stop at the table to say what a “delightful little boy he is”.

At the time of this writing, sitting in Arctic Circle, he is regaling a mother about the fine points of Pac Man and Frogger on Gpa’s phone. Let’s see, Gpa had that phone for years and did not know Pac Man and Frogger were on it. And so it goes…

And so it went… everywhere he went Tony learned People’s names and remembered them. Later, where ever he happened to see them, “I know you! You work at… or I saw you at…” and the conversation would go off in a multitude of directions… eventually.

One Saturday morning in January after the “BIG GAME!” (see note) Tony, his Aunt Kristen and Gpa were entering IHOP for breakfast. He bounced through the door still wearing his basket ball uniform as an older couple was exiting. Gpa was holding the door for the older “big kids” when the woman got all excited and said to Gpa, “Isn’t that the Arctic Circle Boy?” At which Gpa replied with certainty, “Yes it is.”

Graduating from kindergarten, if such a thing is possible,the class sang a song “Don’t Talk to Strangers”. Gpa thought at the time it was a scary little piece. But what does he know. Later in the afternoon a couple came walking toward Tony. Tony observed them approaching, he studied them intently, and then just as they were going by him, he called out, “HELLO STRANGERS!” Gpa thinks they are the only strangers he really knows.

——————(c)09-12-2011————————-