Month: March 2019
+ POETRY
FINALLY A DOG
Chapter 2 Finally, a dog! Sometime after the turtle episode, I moved on to begging dad for a dog all over again and it actually paid off, because dad brought home a pitiful looking rat killing dog from the grain mill where he worked at the time. You see grain mills were notorious for having rodents of all sizes living in and under the … Read More FINALLY A DOG
+ POETRY
Gocko and kid cuz
cuz had looked into the closed turtle shell and now a five pound snapping turtle hung from his eyelid
RED BOY
When I first saw him, his face was a mask of timid fear and furtive glances designed to find the fastest escape route. He peered out from between the legs of his foster mother. She was his anchor and savior and yet she was forcing him out into the real world.
+ POETRY
THE ESSENCE OF GENIE
SHE is a man in a beautiful woman’s body and knows what men want and need.
SHE IS A TRUE SIREN
TWO TURTLES AND A DEAD MAN
Big Man asked if he would like him to push the call button. He nodded, and sputtered “I’m dying here, and they don’t care.” John looked at Big Man, who said the last words that John would ever hear. “I care, John.” John smiled and fell backwards onto the bed. The big man yelled for nurses, but nobody came.
+ POETRY
THE MAGIC BAG
The Magic Bag It was a very gray and drizzly Sunday afternoon. Those are of course, the types of days that nobody likes. The sun is not out, the air is chilly. I haven’t had lunch and my stomach is growling. A very important football game will be on in an hour and I want to watch it. Unfortunately, Beth wants to stop for … Read More THE MAGIC BAG
Blog
for the first time in a decade I fit into a booth at a restaurant. What a fabulous feeling to be on the verge of normal size.
Morning Rain
Lightening excites the horizon as a slow rhythmic dance beginsMy mind and body undulate with the cascading droplets descendingFace upturned and arms outstretched I touch the gray dangling feetof the misty morning clouds I intertwine with the rainA thousand ancient voices serenade our downward spiralAs the wind whistles in perfect harmonyStately old oak trees harbor the winged nesting creaturesTurning their backs to the rain … Read More Morning Rain
CALLED IN THE WIND
sometimes when I hear that woeful sound it’s like a wolf’s cry in the night
Facebook `s Decision
As of yesterday March 2nd of 2019 I am no longer allowed to post stories on face book. Since I am a new blogger at 70 yrs old I dont know how that will affect my ability to have my stories seen. I am just hoping that I can garner an audience. My guess is that all thinkers and writers have Hope’s and dreams … Read More Facebook `s Decision
Minions of Death
what will I miss? The touch of my wife’s hand? The smell of a newly mown patch of wild garlic?
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