Tuesday, August 31, 2004

Summer setting. . . (more)

end of summer
shades of brown creep into green;
fields become patchwork of yellow
and green and white and pink


When you were young, I'd hold you sleeping until my arms fell asleep,
watching gentle breathing and feeling your tiny heart beat.

Emily, may you always be free.
May the world never take this sparkling innocence from thee.

Emily, with each passing year I love you so
like a freshly falling snow,
as more time passes, the deeper you grow.

Monday, August 30, 2004


Maybe we should stop now,
while we are ahead.
Lies, is it all lies?
Who's to say?

Wednesday, August 18, 2004

Summer setting . . .

Crickets sing slower
as summer slowly sets.

We live in the mountains

We live in the mountains
we tap maple trees
we swim in clear waters
and sleep in a cool breeze

Its a long ride to school
across valleys and glens
even longer for shopping
but we live among friends

In winter its hockey
greeting snow with a zeal
skiing nordick and downhill
visiting friends by snowmobile

a song - of sorts - in progress

Foggy morning drive

Speeding through fog-filled Adirondack mountain roads.
The road narrows to black and white and grey
with a yellow line down the middle.
Dark obscure shapes loom beyond the white lines.

Oddly enough the fog clears as I roll through
downtown Saranac Lake at 5 AM.
Streetlights illuminate the sidewalks,
a car parked here and there,
and not a soul in sight.

August 18, 2004 - more crap from the road

Monday, August 16, 2004

Thank you for my nose

Thank you for my nose
and my sense of smell
So that when I drive by a small dairy farm
and smell the cows
I am not repulsed
But drawn back to fond memories of my youth.

Thoughts while driving in Rural NY, August 15, 2004
(funny how our memory is so strongly linked to odors)

Traveling through Ohio

Dark grey clouds billow overhead
sharp edged against a window of yellow grey orange on the horizon
barely illumined by the sun
a storm comes, a storm comes.

Route 76 through Akron
Interstates wind and twist and merge
Have to go north to go east
Joy of all joy, rain begins to fall,
stuck in 5 0'clock traffic in Akron Ohio.

Lord get me through to Youngstown
to cruise on to PA, to Williamsport,
family bound.

Traffic speeds up as nearly everyone
veers of to Cuyahoga Falls
and the rest of us continue on to Youngstown

Thoughts while Driving - August 13, 2004

I will be . . .

I will be your friend.
I will be your confidante.
but I can not be your lover.

I will be your friend.
I will do most all you want,
but my heart must belong to another.

I wait for your call,
wait for YOU, most of all.

Thoughts while Driving - August 13, 2004

Thursday, August 12, 2004

Texas Roadhouse

I went out to eat at a Texas Roadhouse tonight.
And as I was sitting there I realized
I was eating in a factory restaurant.
They move people through there like hanging sides of beef,
or automobile chassis through the assembly plant.
And each person has their own little role,
the greeter, the seater, the waiter, the server(s).
And shortly after your food arrives, the "manager"
swings by, order printouts in hand, and asks "is everything all right do you need anything?"
Well, so, I answered "No" to the latter half of her run on question,
which gave her a pause . . . ." No, you don't have everything you need?"
"No, everything is alright, we don't NEED anything."

This dining experience has made me realize
I am glad I live in the mountains;
unpopulated, few services.
Muncie Indiana LITERALLY has one of every kind of factory restaurant and chain
that exists in this vast United States
(plus a dollar store and tanning salon on every corner and in every strip mall - go figure).
But a week here and I just want to recluse back to my mountain home.
Home, with its green trees, mountain horizons, grey white clouded blue skies.
Home, with its woods and wetlands and lakes and ponds.
Home, where we know everybody and everyone knows us,
where there may seem to be too many people, but THEY are all visitors, tourists, fly-throughs, and wanna-bes.

Home, where my heart is.

(on the road in Muncie IN)

I am

Help me to remember. . .

I am who I am
where I am
when I am.

(from August 4 2004)

Saturday, August 07, 2004

Thank God He loves me

Thank God He loves me
because a love like yours I can live without.
Twice in a day, MY headache notwithstanding you've managed to:
1) demonstrate you have no desire to listen to what I have to say, &
2) reaffirmed your inability to apologize.

You may profess love but you sure as hell don't know how to live it.
And the fights are never about what you think they are about
and you are incapable of figuring that out;
willing to love, unwilling to yield.

Michael R. Martin - via Clie

Friday, August 06, 2004

The Fungi Song

Some people think we're hairy
and others think we're scary
all diners should be wary
'cause we are fungi

It doesn't seem to make sense
and it sounds ridiculous
but together we are fungi
and alone I am simply fungus.

The largest living thing on earth
we've often difficult to spot
mycelial threads throughout the soil
and a little mushroom at the top.

Girl on a Stoop, Saranac Lake

The young girl sits on her stoop, on her stoop
expectantly watching as hours go by
expectantly waiting for nothing to happen
her head barely turning as traffic goes by.

She's all of sixteen with her freckles and short hair
her whole before her and nothing to lose
She sits and she w atches, still as a statue
dreaming that life would reach out, her to choose

Lady child in that Saranac town
she sits and she watches as nothing goes down
Lady child how I wish I could show you
you're part of the reason this world spins around.

Time passes by and the sky starts to darken
The traffic still passes as headlights come on
She sits unobserved and fades into the scene of
old buildngs and porches that line streets in this town.

from August 30. 2002

Sleeping on the centerline

Everyone thinks I'm doing fine
but I feel like sleeping on the centerline.

The pavement is calling me.

Can't sleep at night, can't work all day
I'm lonely be want to be left alone.
Another roadkill on the road of life.

from August 30, 2002

Summer fading

Looking out the window as the summer fades away
watching as the farmer takes his last cutting of hay
the lambs of spring are nearly bigger than their moms
watching as the shadows stretch to close another day.

A myriad shades of green the hills
showing hints of tinted fall
ablush in salmon, red and pink
with lemon spattered over all.

The last short days of summer, hollyhocks in blooms
fields of golden rod display beneath a harvest moon
Crickets madly chirping as if
they know a frost comes soon.

from August 23, 2003+

Thank you, Lord

Lord I thank you for the gifts
of moon and stars and tide
I thank you for the blessings
of my family & my bride.

And as the sun is setting
on the first light hints of fall
It's life cycling through its seasons
for which I thank you most of all.

from August 22, 2002

Good & Plenty Honey

She's my good 'n plenty honey.
She does plenty of good. . .

from 8/21/02

Monday, August 02, 2004

Pondering Change

The vast majority of what we call "wild flowers" are introduced or escaped. Change is what life is all about. People seem to think life and the environment should be static, like a picture in a garden magazine. But river and stream banks move, plant communities constantly change in adaptation to climatic differences from year to year, new plant species move in all the time, established plant species move on to somewhere else or fade into the background, even the global climate changes dramatically over the geologic time scale with or without our extra carbon.

I'd like to think people are capable of realizing the complexity and interconnection of the natural world, but sometimes I wonder. . . .

Pale Moon Risen

Pale moon risen 'gainst the wind
trails across the sky from mountain peak to maple crown.
Light breeze damp with dew,
the lawn lays dappled 'neath the trees,
while insects trill their unremitting love songs.