Sunlight streams through the window.
Sleeping dog yips at in intruder in her dreams.
When she awakens, the threat will be gone.
When I awaken, will the dog be gone?
Peace follows solitude
Sunlight streams through the window.
Sleeping dog yips at in intruder in her dreams.
When she awakens, the threat will be gone.
When I awaken, will the dog be gone?
He appears to be in charge
of the whole of his life.
He casts an illusion.
He is in charge of nothing.
And he strives to keep the nothing
free of all such illusions.
Music with me
Storms beyond
Tympani and thunder
My world refreshed
My sense of humor is missing. Perhaps I never had one. In any case, I can’t find it and I believe it is too late for me to acquire one.
I should learn to live with what I have, especially at my age.
Besides, does a hermit really need a sense of humor?
Who will laugh with me and with whom will I laugh?
I live alone.
Except for the dog and dogs have absolutely no sense of humor.
Don’t know where I’m going.
Don’t care where I’ve been.
Peaceably alone, I mosey along
singing the song of my self.
Not everyone can be a hermit.
You must be created by a god
Who understands the beauty of solitude.
Who then watches over you to ensure
Your blunders do not menace this creation.
I once lived in a cave.
Not a dark murky cave in the wilderness,
But an ordinary room in an ordinary house.
It was filled with things
Mysterious to the Resident Woman
So she called the room “The Cave.”
The cave no longer exists,
Nor does the Resident Woman.
And I am alone
To do what I do.
And that is something I have always done.
In the small hours and half awake,
I imagined the perfect opening line.
One which captures the essence of my being.
I was not conscious enough to move a pen
and it fled to the place where dreams retreat,
quietly slipping away in iambic pentameter.
That I can still do as I wish
says more for my reduced expectations
than for my physical prowess.
past fades
future collapses
present appears
until it does not