America Convinced. It was well before morning almost a year ago: “You got to do something, you just do, before you know it you wake up and you’re 40.” An old memory back with the first Happy Birthday to tell me it was right again. It was a hotel outside of
Ma A Couple Frozen Waffles Sitting and watching the sunrise With no one but your sleepy dog, A cup of tea and a frozen waffle. That's a good life. When a hawk flies Fast by my window Just after Sunrise, I wonder what it means. The hawk wonders how I can be up
Ma A Tree on Purpose The Great Blue Heron Leapt! Then dove! Eagle like stabbed and grabbed, and set down to eat the catch the size of his head. He knows; I’m here. It’s raining; I’m in the car. Not only has he noticed; He walked over. Always a straight line of
Poems What Comes After New There’s nothing new in a morning, Sunrise is a promise kept. Not something ancient. Never something new. What comes before ancient. What comes after new. The Sun is never shock. Daylight decided dawns. ~ Wynn ~
Poems The Pulse We Step To Each day is a relay, a baton for tomorrow, For adding to the dream you dream you dream is you. Life is not a race against time, but a matter of the intention of each moment. One pixelated promise, not promised. There’s no way to hold a moment. What
Poems Won't Break to Pixelate Two deer in the street at half past 5 AM. A holy light around its face, The one locked to my eyes with his. Tall, a prince, a gift of Grace, A reminder of the awesome power of gentle kindness. I took a few pictures. Clear, good shots, but dishonest.
Poems The Firs I’m not ready for everything to die this year. The wind is consistently strong the past few days. The people who come from all parts of the world To see our leaves change color are leaving. The ground is a sheet of wax paper Under a blood-let easel.
Poems Good Neighbor, Frost If the sky and the horizon bent properly, I could see those paper barked birches. Autumn -swung and knocked- swung and knocked Oak and ash and spruce and pine and even Evergreens Grumbled. Fat chirping squirrels bent trunks down. Elasticity whip snapped shot them back up. I crooked my neck
Ma The Moon, Indecisive The shadow shined sunset on the city. The wind slow-whipped and rippled. Can light be a light bed sheet that cools Like a night lit summer night? Can the moon, indecisive, Make the whole world? Yes! Yes! Yes! And yes. Tonight, and sunset held the city Skyscrapers in each
Poems Country Eyes The first Saturday morning in October at Massabesic Lake. The world is in masks. The trees are in technicolor. Autumn in New England, when Mother Nature reminds the Country what color really is. Autumn foliage season begins in New Hampshire. The eyes only see 4k desktop wallpapers. Professional photographers. Japanese
Ma A Candle for Neon That this matters. These words here. Words. That’s my insistence. That what I do all day, and others can do too, matters to our world. That sharing what matters most to us, even and maybe especially, only literally, matters to us as a society. I work. All day. All
Ma It's Really Something Else Remove the ant-covered McDonald’s parking lot French fry from its beak, and a seagull is a soft soda pop bottle swaddled in the wings of an angel. Where there are people there are seagulls. Someone’s gotta clean. Pro-tip #1: Should you ever lose your group of
Poems She's Afraid to Hope She's afraid to hope. The spider in my window; She's afraid of hope. Black Widow Beautiful And she (yes, she!) is Afraid to hope. Could it be this time, (Yes, This Time!) the grass (Yes, This Grass!) is actual (In fact, actual!) green. Actual factual Green.
Ma A Prism The secret to a good life Is the secret to the universe. Balance. Balance what? Light. Mother Nature balances the Light. Color is measured in frequencies, So, color is the measure of the closeness… Or better said… the “nearness of the light.” Liquid, gas, solid? No and no and no.
Poems Scroll Down and Forget 'em Snow last night. Treetops Rooftops Road signs Topped Powder sugared Magnificent. Why scrub away Autumn's mess? Let it soak. Snow like scrubbing bubbles, When they melt the mess goes with them. Some metaphors stink. Some similes are like scrubbing bubbles, To do their best work, Let them sit
