Saturday, February 27, 2016


on growth.  Spring has its way with everything.  Sometimes you need to get up higher to see.  This was a view from the puyas.  Poems, too, benefit from perspective.  Sometimes a perspective of a new notebook.  New pen.  Or cooking.  Or a long walk.  Like Spring, perspective is never singular. And often, kinetic.

1 comment:

  1. Jon saves my painting. I was going to throw it out. He says he'll hang it in the basement, over his motorcycle. The youngest of our brood, he treasures what others discard. I have never heard him say an unkind word about another person.

    I've written several poems for him. One line, "to think of her thinking of him." is appropriate on Palm Sunday. May he always lean like a beautiful willow, toward the light.

    9/26/97// 3/20/2016