Trails less traveled. The way is narrow. The way is steep. The way is hard. But the way is good. … Continue reading Lifesummit
I saw him approaching out of the corner of my eye as I sat on a park bench. The well-shaded grounds of the State Hospital is a spot frequented by local office dwellers escaping for quiet lunches on warm summer days, and that’s what I was doing there. But that’s not what he was doing there. The thirty-something year-old looked around nervously and asked if he could sit down.
Psychiatric patients at the hospital can receive permission to stroll outside during the day, but they’re not allowed to talk to the public. I knew this, and reluctantly I motioned him to sit.
His story was a bit shocking, but I didn’t flinch. Apparently I was the first person in the park who didn’t walk away from him, especially “after they found out I was gay,” he said. Continue reading “Crazy People Who Speak with Their Eyes Closed”
Clumsily the polka dot wonder pranced through the brush, breaking sticks under its toddler feet and drawing so much attention within a quarter mile that it might as well have worn a blaze orange sign with the words “Eat Me.” Don’t you know there’s a coyote pack roamin’ these parts, little podna? I thought.
Usually it walked the fields with its twin sibling, and usually its mother was nearby. Not today.
There was more shuffling. The bushes along the fence row shook one after the other, like a sloppy version of “the wave” in a stadium crowd. I stayed in my seat as to not alert of my presence.
Where are they? I surveyed the yard and neighboring woods for momma and sister, thinking the worst. The coyote howls had drawn closer to the house the past few nights. Continue reading “Polka Dot Wonder”
Edging outward on a sturdy limb I lost my balance right away but caught myself. I looked down at the ground some 15 feet below, my own limbs quivering after the espresso shot of adrenaline. What am I doing up here, I thought.
As a child I would climb trees over 50 feet tall, my 65-pound body clinging to the spindliest top branch on the windiest of days short of a thunderstorm, though my favorite time of day to climb was at dusk. Continue reading “Perspective from a Tree”
(A poem written from a condo balcony overlooking the Gulf of Mexico) Nutty coffee. Blue water gulf. Salty cool breeze. … Continue reading Prose by the Gulf
Like stars on a tree your mind sparkles with dots of brilliance Though darkness and void far outweigh the specks … Continue reading Starry-eyed Dreamers
Obviously. So I slough off the warning and throw away the bag that is not a toy.
But the words bother me. I return immediately to the kitchen trash can and wipe away the ketchup from the little plastic bag.
WARNING: THIS BAG IS NOT A TOY. Continue reading “This Bag Is Not a Toy”