August 17th, 2017

I see those posts every day –
posts protruding several feet above the high tide mark
here in the waters of a bay that’s part of Tampa.
Pelicans and gulls love to stand on those posts —
seldom are their tops without a bird.


As soon as one flies away
another takes its place.


I do not know the reason for those posts’ attraction
and am curious about the lure
that keeps then occupied by winged creatures.


Such deep thoughts often occupy my mind
as I ambulate great distances on a treadmill
and face a window allowing me to see this wonder
near where the water meets the land.


August 15th, 2017

I watched some clouds by –
saw a few birds fly high
and yet beneath our high window –
read a book of poems
ate a bit –
and shared large portions of the day
with a mate supremely loved.


Though the world is
fraught with many dangers
my little world on an 11th floor
overlooking a bay in Florida
is quite safe —
except for the denouement of a process
called AGING.


Most days we say out loud:


There are some days we do not
participate in that litany —
but there are not many of those!

August 14th, 2017

Can you remember
when you “discovered”
that there were people
smarter then you?


Most likely you were in school —
a collection place
for spawning memories.


Maybe you didn’t spend much time
considering your IQ.


Is it strange that I think about this now
as I gather with a group of ancient peers
and wonder what they did with their lives.


Their appearance in their old bodies
is not a revelation of their former prowess.


There is no way I can compare myself
with a hundred ancient souls
but as I see them
I sometimes wonder
how their “prime of life”
might have been.


When they see me
they don’t know what’s on my mind –
although maybe
they are still smart enough
to guess.


What do they think of me?


August 11th, 2017

In my last parish
I made “A Children’s Story”
a part of our weekly liturgy.


I had a medium-size cardboad box
that I painted bright green and orange
and on its top “FOR CHILDREN.”


I put different items in it each week
and when the time was right
lifted off the top and pulled them out
and used them as props for my stories.


One day I put my Westie (20 pounds)
in the box and lulled him into quietness
before the worship service began.


Later, when I opened the box
and pulled out my friendly white dog
the whole congregation
seemed to be pleased and amused.


I remember that Sunday morning
with such pleasure
and every so often
pull it from my memory bank
with a smile.


August 9th, 2017

I cannot see the sun rise through our bay window.


My view precludes it even if I stretch.


However, I can see the sky light up slowly —
the rheostat of the turning earth
timing the birth of every dawn.


Often I think I feel the earth’s turning
more than I feel the sun rising,


Is that because of what science taught me?

I had to unlearn
what I thought I saw!


August 4th, 2017

I do not know when I will go.


I’m glad I do not know.
You, too, (I think) think like I.


And as the years go by
no matter how hard you try
you can’t block out the fact
that you won’t be around
some time later than now.


I wish I spent less time
wondering about such stuff.


You might spend
more time than I
pondering the ineffable
And if so:
poor you!


August 2nd, 2017

There once was a fellow called Russ

who didn’t like waiting for stuff.

And as he got old

and started to fold

he decided that he’d had enough.


August 1st, 2017

The waves on the bay
make little white caps when the wind blows stiff –
much smaller than the ocean waters make.
There seems to be no swell
and no surf boards have a chance
of doing anything but bouncing.


The white caps are so small
and vanish quickly –
almost seeming to be blinking
like a myriad lightening bugs
upon the water’s surface.


I’ve not yet seen the waters of the Bay
respond to hurricanes
and I expect I won’t be here
to tell you its behavior
from our view –
eleven stories high.


July 19th, 2017

A  man, impatient

has learned  that much  patience is required

to deal with life as he grows older.


He fails the tests at every turn

and wonders how to change

the way he is

to  the way he ought to be.


Something is happening.

He’s become impatient

with his impatience.


Give him another decade

and he’ll work it out.


July 18th, 2017

When I first met her
she seemed robust –
including her bust.


She told me
that she exercised a lot
and that was believable.


Then, a couple of years later
I bumped into her –
although I can’t say
that we really bumped.


Maybe I should say
that I couple of years later
I ran into her
but that’s not quite right either.
There was no bumping
and no running into.


We just encountered one another
after having not done so
for a couple of years.


She had changed considerably.
She stretched out her arms
as if to show me something —
and much flesh hung down –
flesh that had been filled
with muscle and brawn.


It seems that
she was distressed about her changes
but all she said was
that she was now skinny-fat.


That oxymoron described her well
and I could tell she was pleased with that
but not with her condition.
We did not discuss her new body.


In fact, we hardly discussed anything
and I was left pondering her skinny-fatness.

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