The Mutter

It is an activity that is no more than a game without rules or win/lose outcomes
which is played in an empty stadium with no scoreboard by a single participant
having no incentive to complete the game or to even begin it.
Ergo: The Mutterings of an Old Hermit..

Any Name

There is nothing more to say, Elizabeth (whoever you are)!
I depart from your sight and being, Elizabeth.

My action is best for both of us, Elizabeth.
Especially for me.

Fie! I slam the door behind me!

I am gone.

Is There?

Is there a poet in this house?
Is there one who speaks with rhyme and meter?

I think not, unless it is the dog,
but I cannot point to her
since she speaks only to those
with more than two feet.


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This example of my handwriting illustrates the complete failure of my elementary school teachers when they attempted to instill in me the mechanics of the Palmer Method of cursive handwriting.


This is not a day to be out.

There are demons afloat
I do not wish to confront.

They are a frightful lot
even when they are not.

So, I will remain hidden since
hidden is a prudent place for me



Three red tulip blossoms
Return each spring

And we greet each other silently
As we have done for 30 years.


Petals drop
Stems dry

The tulip withdraws within itself
To prepare for reawakening
At its prescribed time.

Charles Bukowski writes…

when a hot woman meets a hermit
one of them is going to

I have not met a hot woman
since I have become a hermit
so I cannot confirm.

But, even at my age,
the possibility provokes
a glimmer in my eye
(but only in my eye).