fierce loving

did I mention

did I mention
my son is driving now
I watch him
everyday
from behind
he appears
every inch
a man
his shoulders
only slightly less wide
than the door frame
muscles blowing out
voice sincerely deep
yet
he is not a man
still closer to 15 than adulthood
joining gaggles of generation teXters
spreading their rubber wings
upon an overburdened world saturated with flashing macadam, blinding halogens
and
complicated souls perpetually racing their personal calendars
his young supple mind must remain
singular of purpose
leave all those fresh happenings
curbside
before leaping behind the velveteen wheel
yanking its quadruplet of synchronized tires into the fray
may each and every casual roll
be from point a to point b only
not a flippant roll of the dice
he is not a gambler
neither am I
this is the season
for believers
we are
both the same
singular of purpose
when singing and shining
in this glorious cacophony
of colored bells
and bursting evergreen stars

for those who celebrate this warm day of family and friends gathering (mostly for food;)) and collecting in peace, Happy Thanksgiving
for those who don’t, have a wonderful weekend – thank you
squanto-with-editshonoring all who have gone before

man from yesteryear

a poor man’s yarn
windswept treatises
honesty
raw’ed his bones but gave him strength
this man possessed no bucket
if owned such a tin cap–its contents would have been soil not lists
earth from the earth as planted
courageously
resolved to nurture a determined forest
this portrait
this man
a father might tell his son about
a daughter–not even a warning
honorable and intended
eyes true
thoughts lustful grey not clean (he a man)
but hands in control
for sowing of the soil
I think
in my cap
by the scarred wrought iron pot lumbering over the fire
you would have loved this man
trusted him
down to his raw’ed bones
cropped Squanto

Monstrous Blanket Piles

Well, my friends-
It is Thanksgivingpalooza again…
Boatloads of Italians will begin arriving at my door tomorrow.
The crowd will blossom to 25+ for Thanksgiving then I will have 21 lovely people sleeping under my roof…
Needless to say, my laptop will most likely be lost beneath monstrous blanket piles.
For those who celebrate, I wish you a warm and wondrous holiday. For those who don’t, I wish you lovely days ahead.
If I recover both my laptop and my sanity, I’ll return after a short regroup. 🙂
Thank you.

In the words of my friend, Simon Tocclo of Liberian Me
PEACE, LOVE AND LIGHT
am:)

Squanto

Behind many holiday histories, both good and bad events exist. When we celebrate, let’s not forget to honor the memories of those who lived through one side or the other.

Squanto art previously published