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I have been rewriting my new poem Learning How To Kiss online since yesterday.  And I think it is better than it was yesterday.  But I don’t know how anyone feel about it except Time Thief who very kindly said some things about it.

So I would appreciate it if you the reader would send it to SU  StumbleUpon or your favorite outlet for this sort of thing so it will receive some exposure.

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, originally uploaded by Davidlind.

This is a photo from last year about this time. I took it at Maymont Park downtown and thought I would put it up again. Apologies to those who have already seen it. We are still waiting for some autumn color around here. The temperature is supposed to be mid 80’s this afternoon.

It’s a cheerful photo and one that reminds me why I enjoy photography so much.

Poetry is important too. The Boss Poem is just a simple little thing and it is being viewed now over three hundred times per day. It’s not StumbleUpon either. It’s search engine traffic and people are apparently concerned about their relationship with their boss.

That’s not surprising. Job concerns have to be high on a great number of lists these days.

Lots of activities may be cut back. But we can all still blog can’t we? We can write prose and poetry. We can take photos and we can offer encouraging comments to each other.

Taking photos is a lot cheaper when you don’t have to develop film. And everyone already has a computer. Maybe dial ups will make a comeback though.

Maybe the photos should be smaller and fewer to the page.

I don’t know. But the weather is terrific and it’s relaxing to run out into nature somewhere and start looking for the beauty wherever she may be.

It’s a recipe for dealing with the emotions that accompany  changing times. Document the changing foliage. Take photos of the clouds.

Update// Well this explains all the readers. . .

Boss’s Day (also known as Bosses Day or National Boss Day) is a secular holiday celebrated[citation needed] on October 16 in the United States. It has traditionally been a day for employees to thank their boss for being kind and fair throughout the year. The holiday has been the source of some controversy and criticism in the United States, where it is often mocked as a Hallmark Holiday. Recently, sites like Hallmark have recognized the holiday with a contemporary spin

from Wikipedia

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Dawn Rapture

11-dawn-rapture

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The good things begin

When we go beyond the words

Music is the train

That takes us there

Or love

Or a photo that touches the heart

Poetry can do it

Or a twenty mile run

So many ways

We want to go

We need to go.

Sitting here reading these words

Imagine you are standing

Behind yourself

Watching yourself

Reading this

In the place beyond the words.

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This is poetry about the death of a loved one. In this case it is my mother who died in 1992. I was taking photos of the James River one day and went back home to get warm and look at them. It was a very peaceful time and as sometimes happens I began to write. The bushes along the river reminded me of something long ago. . .

Mother

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They left you on a shelf

Beneath the bricks and a cloudy sky

As we waited for your date with a field of grass.

The gentleman who dressed you was nice enough

And he rolled you out when I arrived to say “Good-bye”.

You rested in the center of the room

As I recalled the plastic flowers

On our dining room table years ago.

All of us plus Pops and Nana too

Thanking God for all His gifts

And the Sunday meals you made.

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And this as well.

On a beautiful summer day

You put on a white blouse and skirt

And took me to the blueberry fields.

You laughed as I pretended to take a broken drum

Out the door for the berries.

Then you sang a song just for us

As cool breezes charmed my senses

While goodness found mercy

Next to a stream and gave a little boy

A picture that would last until now.

***

This morning I went to Starbucks

After watching the river at dawn,

Immersed in making photos with pastel shades of sky

And bushes that seemed blue in the early morning air.

I ordered coffee

To awaken my frozen limbs

And a blueberry scone.

The berries are sweet.

I find them more delicious

Than chocolate

Or wine.

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This Is Just To Say

I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast.

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold.

-William Carlos Williams

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