Musings on a small life

Musings on a small life

You are a red fighting fish You are alive You breathe You swim You frighten would-be invaders You are not. Where have you gone? Where do all the small lives go When they have spent their last On living the only way they know? Now I see you Only in …

nap

nap

Each half-hour slips by Unnoticed and cherished. My mind is playing With a new reality. The slumber of a couch On a Sunday afternoon Is a shadow and a thought Of the sleep eternal. In the peaceful funk of mind I contemplate with ease The timely end of all things. …

metaphysics

a tree does not mean to be lovely, in the same way a young woman does it just is "I find deep meaning in what you say." —that was not my intent. We mean without meaning We are without being Are you not weary? Are you not empty? And so …

sneeze

I should not have taken that last bite of rice I could tell what was coming. But my impatience—or maybe gluttony drove the forkful of rice inside my mouth and then the sneeze came and your understandable disgust. …

in heaven

I can't remember commercial jingles and they never come back to me when my mind is wandering. …