Poem’s audio below…honey, I even got a little throat clearing in for you at the end.;-) I don’t post as much as some people do. That’s for good reason. There are too many dummies doing so already. People posting too much shit that is selfish, mean, hurtful, and downright stupid. For instance, I am happy … More Happy Birthday, S.B. via Facebook
Thinking a little about bills and savings and checking. How we go about making ends meet. Wondering how my kids are doing at school two days back after Christmas break, and wishing my wife would quit her job, just do what it takes so she can bring color to the world every day. I … More as if tomorrow is coming
As I write this, my daughter appears. She’s made me a drawing.
To dad fum Oogie, it says.
There is a sun at the bottom of the page and a sun at the top. There is a flower growing out of the sky and a flower growing out of the ground. In the middle of the page is a giant, smiling frog. … More a girl draws a picture
When I was a kid, just seven or eight, and it was bitter cold like this—the wind killing our cheeks, icing our eyes, and easing through even the most solid surfaces of our double wide—I woke every morning to the sound of Dad crumpling and rolling newspapers to light a fire two hours before the … More actions speak louder than words
I want to write about the bitter cold and how pretty the snow looks over everything. I want to write about the twenty-three brown apples hanging from the tree in our backyard and how my five-year-old daughter noticed them. “There are more apples that won’t let go than there were last year,” she said to … More sometimes things need to be just so before you move on
It’s hard to give up when you think of someone else. It’s not as easy to pity yourself when you consider your kids and parents, your siblings and strangers. All too often we exaggerate the severity of our aches and pains, misfortune and loss because we’re focused on our own desires—our so-called needs and wants. … More one arm, a dead cat, cancer
To Goodwill tonight For a kid’s Christmas sweater and just to get out of the house And be together and breathe a little better In a big space filled with clothes and books, Toys, lamps, skis, pots and pans, And furniture. Everything so beautifully worn, Full of life, Imperfect. And calling to me. S.B. and … More wonder and worry and making ends meet
You can never know what’s going on inside another person. Sometimes, the surface cracks. We see small tears, a biting of the lip, restlessness and moaning when they sleep. Other times it’s red cheeks, blood-shot eyes, a furrowed brow. But most of the time, people with guts and good sense and hope just keep on … More the benefit of the doubt
A big wind moves Lake Huron wave after wave. They roll and crest white and break in the bay and push ice against ice so there is a constant roar. Our inland sea is angry with the way Mother Nature threatens its freedom. “Hear that?” I ask Oogie. She is five and tiny and I … More the December surf is frightening
A morning walk. The four of us holding hands. Past our shop—closed until Spring—then down 2nd Avenue. Sleepy Alpena. Little Man and Oogie chattering. S.B. dreaming aloud. About art, the business, what may be waiting. In five years. A few months. Maybe just over the bridge. Things can change suddenly. Weirdly. Without warning. But I … More focused on the now
The Crooked Steeple 