Loved those poems. Thank you, Neil!

As always, my appreciation for the sensitivities of our circle of friends.

"To Natasha" - Using the changing season reflects the hopelessness the poet feels for Natasha.
At the end as darkness cloaks his spirits - all that remains to comfort him is the memory of her grace.
Though Pushkin's life was brief, he left examples of nearly every literary genre of his day.
Thank you, Dimitri! - Hope to see more from you!


A notice to David
A knock on the door
Missing your presence
Hiding once more
This playground needs playmates
This space needs a-fillin'
We're waiting, my friend ...
...Are you willin'?...

A person's mind is so powerful,
we can invent, create, experience,
and destroy things with thoughts alone.





Yep

"It's been awhile," the cowboy said.
"Yep," replied his friend.
"It must be nearly fifteen years."
"Yep," he said again.

"I guess you been a driftin' some?"
"Yep," his friend replied.
"I guess I've done about the same."
"Yep," the old friend sighed.

"Remember Shorty Winkleman?"
"Yep," friend answered slow.
"I hear he up and passed away."
"Yep," he answered low.

"Sure looks like we may have some rain."
"Yep," his friend allow'd.
"Lord knows that we can stand relief."
"Yep," the other scowled.

"I guess you need to head on out?"
"yep," his friend intoned.
"I sure am glad we got to chat."
"Yep," the old hand droned.

The cowboy, after supper, said
he'd run into Ray.
The other boys now gathered 'round.
"What'd he have to say?"

"He said that it had been awhile,
nearly fifteen years.
he said that he had drifted some
workin' with them steers."

"He said he knowed 'bout Shorty's death,
that it made him sad.
He figured we was in fer rain,
fer relief was glad."

"He said he was a headin' out,
glad we got to jaw.
Ol' Ray is quite a talker, boys.
Beats all I ever saw."

- Rod Nichols

Lonely Leaf in the Water


I watched it fall
In spiralling flight
This browned yellow leaf
A saddened sight

For not long ago
It was alive and so green
In a canopy of cover
Above the stream

I watched it meander
Around rocks and through eddy's
On the stream it continued
Becoming more unsteady

It's protective coating
Now a shadow of it's past
As the water moistens
It's out on it's last

It came to rest
Between two rocks
As the water cascaded
To the bottom it dropped

The end of it's life
But it's journey goes on
For nature will use
This leaf that roamed

James Fraser

That music always round me, unceasing, unbeginning, yet long
untaught I did not hear,
But now the chorus I hear and am elated,
A tenor, strong, ascending with power and health, with glad notes
of daybreak I hear,
A soprano at intervals sailing buoyantly over the tops of immense
waves,
A transparent base shuddering lusciously under and through the
universe,
The triumphant tutti, the funeral wailings with sweet flutes and
violins, all of these I fill myself with,
I hear not the volumes of sound merely, I am moved by the
exquisite meanings,
I listen to the different voices winding in and out, striving,
contending with fiery vehemence to excel each other in
emotion;
I do not think the performers know themselves—but now I think I
begin to know them.

--Walt Whitman

Why I have lost my voice for the moment .....




She is perfect
ly attached.