Hour Eighteen 3993 Sun-stroked gardens season stained carpets of variegated color- the clean scent of greenery and herbs a pleasant arousal to the senses. The Chickweeds gather in droves clucking away with banter cleaving to the Cleavers until Evening Primrose. Goats Rue the interruption while…

Hour 21 9/3/2023   “…By Any Other Name…”   The petals wither, fall and shiver – as each stem begins to slumber. Come tomorrow will awake and dance with their life anew.   Each garden echoes movement and song as birds preen, and mates abound….

Hour Seventeen I am convinced flies have genetic memory to the swatter- dashing through the air landing upon naked skin crawling a constant hum of buzzing afflicting my quiet. I pick up the swatter and the nerve-grinding melody ceases. I scan the room and cajole…

Hour Seventeen I am convinced flies have genetic memory to the swatter- dashing through the air landing upon naked skin crawling a constant hum of buzzing afflicting my quiet. I pick up the swatter and the nerve-grinding melody ceases. I scan the room and cajole…

Hour 20 9/3/2023   “Renaissance Fair…”   The Garb …hell yeah, ’tis the Garb and the “steel’ of yesteryear outside, inside heart and whim.   It means a different world earned respect and civility. Rule of Law and responsibility. Making with pride Living in the…

Hour Sixteen Sequestered away in fear like a deer in the headlights, wide-eyed at the atrocities of human nature. I once wore a misanthropic hat lined with burs of Burdock that clung to the scalp ripping out my hair in chunks. My experience with humankind…

Hour 19 9/3/2023   “Borne…”   What do you carry? Where, why… and it means?   I carry a life-worn stone… It “said” hi to me …from a box behind the vendor – that box was closed too, and when the vendor asked I told…

Hour 18 9/3/2023   “The Price Of Admission…”   Friends… mean more than a moment’s pause and careless laughter… more than a thought-full glance and the choice of left behind.   And yes, when we GO away life remains and people change and move on…

Hour Fifteen 11:11 I once had a friend named Bitterness whose caustic nature ate away at the very core of my being. Memories, a swampland I slogged through with years of mud caked to the tattered soul at my feet while Bitterness urged me toward…

Hour 17 9/2/2023   “Whispers…”   Mid-naught… and my breath HOLDS. Eyes startle, wander, focus… Search, I can see each movement, each passing pause and restart. I can hear each “tick” – feel …each… tick. Sense as the second hand sweeps round and around the…