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A SMALL WONDER
It always amazes me thateveryone around me seems to agewhile I know that I have notand that it is the mirror’s liesthat try and make me think I have.True, my body cannot do muchof what it once could but thatI know is less a factor of ageand more one of over use,for even the best…
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A PAINFUL REMINDER
I had it good, I had it easy, I would be the first to admit it, to save you the trouble of reminding me, more by way of illustrating how badly you had it. I’ll concede you had it rough, money always tight, but you never were, never would be a Jewboy although you and…
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POSTDICTIONS
In the beginning there wasa void, stasis, dimensionless.I am a point, without sizetaking form only in motion,so too the seat on whichI sit on United flight 951not going from point Ato point B for neithercan exist in motiontranscending time. Each decision setsone me on a path, intoa dimension, dimensionswhile I tread a different pathand I…
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INTIMATIONS OF MORTALITY
It is easier to think about deathon a wintery evening, when so muchof life slips into stasis, and there isnothing to do but concede your mortality,and with good fortune, then slipinto sleep before being lostin a sea of depression. I must be thankful for my dreamsfor they keep the night from becomingthe little death of…
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BALANCE
It is a precarious balance, really, more and exercise in tottering and hearing than in standing still. Some prefer stasis, others, I included, find it leads inevitably to a loss of energy, to an entropy from which it is difficult to escape. I don’t walk along the edge of the precipice, but I do peer…
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HIGH WIRE
It is a precarious balance, really, more an exercise in tottering and hearing than in standing still. Some prefer stasis, others, I included, find that leads inevitably to a loss of energy, to an entropy from which it is difficult to escape. I don’t walk along the edge of the precipice, but I do. peer…
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APPROACHING WINTER
We are in the season of stasis where nothing wants to move and nothing should shed the mantle of snow that has announced winter’s arrival in terms we full understand, as do the finches clinging to the feeder casting nervous glances skyward. The neighbor’s cat has decided that the remote chance of catching a bird…
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CELESTIAL HARMONY
The summer sky barely pauses to consider what might be going on beneath it. Everything seems to move, there can be no stillness. Once in the rarest of whiles, the sky and the river align, and each is frozen in a stasis that defies understanding or categorization. The stars realize this and shine a moment…
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an old writer and his words 