In November
All the leaves are gone and the sun smiles without warmth. Locking time has come.
All the leaves are gone and the sun smiles without warmth. Locking time has come.
. You are standing knee-deep in Birch Creek watching a beaver swim toward its lodge fifty yards upstream. It carries a load of fresh-cut twigs and branches in its mouth, and you can make out the sleek form of a second beaver adding its own cuttings to the structure. Suddenly the first beaver slaps its
Golden October. The leaf fall begins to strip Glory from the woods.
Last night it was winter in my dreams again, bone-deep cold and cutting wind. I woke up afraid and shivering. My wife slept warm beside me, and I knew the big freeze would hold off for awhile.
For the raid on the Capital, Trump should do time. Selling state secrets? A capital crime. Sexual predation Should send him to jail. Add money laundering: No chance of bail. Obstruction of Congress Merits repression. Intent to do murder: The list goes on further. But there’s one mortal sin That can’t be forgot. For cheating
Stop rushing around. Be still and listen: the trees talk among themselves
Sitting quietly waiting for the moon to rise. A cat waits with me.
I wish I knew half as much as I thought I knew when I was twenty.
Julian of Norwich was a 14th century English anchorite and mystic. She lived in the time of the Great Plague, when there was terrible upheaval as tens of thousands fell sick and died. But she wrote, “All will be well, and very well, and all manner of things will be well.” These were deeply-considered words
When I was a young man I was determined to do great things that would astonish the world. Now that I’m old, I’m glad I didn’t cause much damage.