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JANUARY
It is an odd feeling, in the middleof January, to no longer considerbecoming a bear, choosingto hibernate until Spring arrivesdemanding an awakening. I did that for years, nevergrew the heavy fur coat neededand wasn’t much for digging densin the snow, so I sat insideand dreamed of bearishness. Living now among the birdswhere we shiver when…
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ON KNOWLEDGE
There are things children knowthat parents will never understand. Odder still, things a person knowsas a child are forgotten in adulthood. A child measures the success of a dayby the duration of the parentdemanded bath at its end. A child know that boundaries, especiallythose parentally set, are flexibleand you don’t know wherethe limit is until…
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THE WAVES
We, so far out at sea,see only the waves passing,the rise and fall, the rhythm,and cannot imagineit could be otherwise, You, on the shorecannot perceive the waveswe do, torn by the reefthat leaves you onlyimagining what you thinkthe waves might be. We cannot imaginethe silence, the isolationyou must feel in yourwaveless world withonly memory of…
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THEN, NOW
It was easier then, so let’sgo there, the spring of 1970,the location is less important,so long as it’s a coffee housewhere those barely old enoughto drink, or barely short of thatage congregate, waiting forsomething to happen or, Iseriously hoped, someone,someone with little hair, butwho carried James Joyce inhis jeans pocket, Portrait ofthe Artist the only…
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SNOW
At first it was just oddto think of snow as merelya concept, a memory softer,more pleasant than its reality. You can grow accustomedto concepts, they are generallysomewhat neat and tidy, easilyfiled and brought forth on demand. The concept of snow hasits great advantages, snowmenof perfect shape, never meltingand no one must shovel a concept. But…
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JUST ONE MORE HAND
My parents, well my father,always felt is was necessaryto stop on the way to our summer homein the Western Adirondacksto visit Uncle Morris, who mayor may not have been an unclein the blood sense, it was never clear.It was he who sold my father the cottagenear the small lake, he who nowlived in a nursing…
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HARD TIME
I was only in jail once,then for four hours, no chargesand my biggest fear was thatmy parents would find out,or the cops would determinethat I was only 17 and breakingthe park curfew was noteven a misdemeanor. They let me go, gave mea ride back to the park,told me not to go in butI wouldn’t at…
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PARENTAL MOMENTS
My adoptive parents diedsix years apart, I receivedtwo announcement textsfrom the son they had together. We negotiated her obituary,and I am waiting for her funeral,but after seven years, I havegiven up hope of that happening. I did visit my birth mother’sgrave, placed a small stone on hers, watered the groundwith tears of sadness and joy at…
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READING LIST
A good friend, who we hadnot seen in COVID time, visitedand we smiled when we sawthat she was reading Heidi,catching up she said on a tooabbreviated childhood, onesacrificed to circumstance My grandson, soon enoughten, says he is readingBeowulf, though not the Heaneytranslation, so there are twomore books on my booksyou must read before you die…
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A FOOL’S ERRAND
Looking back, it is easy to see nowwhat was difficult then, notlooking like complete fools,we all did, but knowing that we looked like fools and wouldfor the foreseeable future,those of us lucky enoughto survive and actually have one. We knew they wanted to break us down, rebuild usin the desired format, alwaysbending to unit cohesion,following orders thoughtlessly,never…
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an old writer and his words 