it hits you funny,sometimes, death,like a sledgehammermade out of puttywielded by a midgetwith spasticityas a surgeonwould wield a knife I was at an auctionrural typelots of weldersand big implementsfor fixing combinesor tractorsmixed inwith delicate china I love the smellsof old leatherand musty booksfrench fries and donutswith coffeefrom the canteen in
Poetry
While Cicadas Sang
Thirteen yearsburied ‘neath the loamin my backyardsilent diggingfar from watchful eyeswaitingfor a tender morselof fresh larvae. Thirteen years agoI was writinga special soliloquoyfor a special nightjust ‘An Ordinary Man‘in an ordinary townchanneling Leacockor at least trying. Tonight I satdeep in shadowsfrom the porchlighta quiet momentwith a gentle dogleaning against my
Geekstuff
Weather Light or Dark
Finally getting back to fixing some of the niggling issues in these apps I have created. OpenWeather data uses metres/second for wind speed, which is all good, but to the average person doesn’t mean a whole heck of a lot (m/s times 3.6 equals kmh). So just had to fix
Poetry
Summer’s End
The news this morningcame with the tollof Tubular Bellsflying up my news feedlike a teleportationto my youthCanada – Russia ’72Paul HendersonThe Golden Goaland the tall manleaning on his stickgame face onbeloved sonof a countrylooking for a signof what is goodin a timewhen the marginsblurred like the blue linebeneath Lafleur’s skatesthoughtful,
Poetry
Eternity Is…
Eternity is a song beyond timeor silence deeper than Creationcaught in the instantyou realize she has gonewithout a wordleaving behindonly a shaft of sunlightflickeringon her footprintsin the dust as she left. Eternity is the darknessafter the last “Goodnight!”before the dawnof your next baby stepsalong a flinty pathstrewn with memoriesand tomorrowsas
Poetry
September
There is a crispnessin the morning airas dog days sliplike a molten sunsetbeneath the wavesof autumn,nights arrivingsooner than last week. We hardly noticein our hastefor school suppliesand awesome dealsat American Eaglesale sale SALE!or one last dashto the cottage. Or at our deskhead down – eyes fixedon 14 inchesof total lifeburning