Sunday, March 18, 2012


The best way to succeed in life is to

act on the advice we give to others. ~Author unknown

Sun on my face, birds on every branch,

bulbs sprouting, green grass emerging

before our eyes in this patch of nature

wedged between busy state highways.

All feeling the same way, the same joy,

blessed by whoever we pray to, but today

we worship blue skies, and magnolia trees.

Here together, but alone, not a word said,

barely a nod as we stroll past one another.

On days like these, I wish we could talk to

each other. I would tell them what I know

what I see, what I think and how I’m feeling.

I’d tell a Dad, be patient with your boy as

they try to fly a kite with not much wind.

I’d tell a Mom in tight fitting jeans to go slow

on her bike, don’t worry about your weight

from where I’m standing, you look mighty fine.

I’d tell a guy walking with headphones to take

them off, listen to children laughing, jays calling,

the swings swaying and the little dogs yapping.

Turn off your phone, walk a trail, read the signs,

identify the trees, admire them, know their names.

I’d tell young parents- let the kids shed their coats,

let them run wild across the fields in the sunshine.

Let them pickup sticks, turn over rocks, look for bugs.

I’d tell another guy by the swings not to say it’s time to

leave and keep pushing until they say they want to go.

I want to ask them all to not scold their babies about

muddy sneakers, grass stains on knees or torn shirts.

I’d remind them how cheap band aids are and how

soap and water is most plentiful in this great country.

I want to offer to take a picture for the one family,

because Dads need to be in some of the photos too.

I’d tell an older couple it’s cool how they still hold

hands after all these years as they walk the path.

I want to tell a lady she’s reading an awesome

book and how it’s much better than the movie.

I’d like to tell the elderly couple that I know what

they’re thinking as they watch a girl dig in the dirt

or when they smile as a boy throws his football.

I wish I could advise the teenager under a scarlet oak

not to worry about what she’s writing in her notebook

or what people will say if they read it. Write it down and

always have some extra pens with you is what I’d say.

I want to wave to a Mom with a plaid blanket spread out

for a picnic lunch. I’d tell her that in forty years her kids

will remember days like this one and they’ll miss it too.

Saturday, March 3, 2012


"I don't want to be alone,

I want to be left alone."- Audrey Hepburn

I prefer to do my banking online.

I don’t answer my home phone.

I avoid going to the Post Office.

I Christmas shop on the internet.

I buy groceries in the early morning.

I still say "hello and see you later",

but I wave and always keep walking.

I like to prepare my coffee by myself.

I look for a seat by the window in the

Bagel Shop and I could do without the

Beyonce music blaring from speakers.

I’d rather not listen to the droning list of

Sports Center clich├ęs on the flat screen

TV that’s suspended from the ceiling.

I take back roads, avoid highways,

go to dinner in the late afternoon.

I don’t want a table by old people,

babies, teens or families with kids.

I park at the back of the lot, far away

from the mess of cars that cruise rows

with blinkers in search of a front spot.

And when I come out of the stores,

each and every time, I find my Jeep

surrounded by trucks and other cars.

It’s a magnet that seems to attract

them or maybe it’s a well planned

conspiracy organized to make sure

my efforts to be left alone are in vain.