the Blade or the Brake

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Pristine and crisp…like a second chance to catch a breath.

Traveling to far-flung acres looking for the new growth of more.

Dank darkness combined with black coffee before propping open… of the barn door.

 

As a young farm hand, I had chance to renew the fields.

Scrubbing for sod.

Boasting with migrant workers during a noon time meal.

 

In the innocence, a lifetime discovery…

tractors run but they also roll.

Choices made were all in timing the blade or the brake.

How little to know…a dry season would be all the calamity it takes.

Frost and Flannel

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The clapping hollow and harrowed noise of hiking boot on a hardwood floor

The mystery surrounding a Dixie cup of corn liquor.

The lanky old man

The slamming of the improperly fit…screen door.

After all hadn’t it been her way to travel down paths unknown

Granite faces

Fallen ways of cobblestone.

So what to make of a diminished thing

Long after the spring.

So what to make of a young writer’s dilemma.

My handler submerged in her own poetic plight.

Filled with daydreams

A self-imposed creator’s right.

Year after year

I have gone to what I know to be best.

Frost farms

a meandering Raven’s charm.

Indeed my only play had been what I found.

Chasing critiques that made little sound

Bending the white off the birch

Reflecting the dog’s menace to the earth.

Those days I ran on the ray’s of innocence

as though, sunlight glow no more.

A purposeful forgotten promise

fireside with my father at the cabin door.

So, again the basking of clove and lavender has begun

Will the ache ever be done.

Yes, I took a road less traveled

And, I shall not forget all I have chance to marvel.

Ragged Mountain Byway

This old house once knew my children
This old house once knew my wife
This old house was home and comfort
As we fought the storms of life

January Thaw

A winter’s flower.
How do I disgrace thee.
When you provide me with such symmetry.
An all seasons charm.

Winter’s flower.
How could I not seek but always see.
And, though the footpath is slow
to where you are.
The earthen tones splendor like a distant star.
Winter’s flower by Tree Farm Loop…
take a left off Baptist Hill road.
Near where the Shakers grow old.