Dear Eugene, Last week I saw this bundle of--do you know what it is?--newspaper, on my way walking to work. I said to myself, I sure hope it's not my son's. My son and daughter delivered newspaper, tried one summer, not even the full summer, and they decided it's too much work for too little. I agreed. I am not talking about their work, but mine as a parent to get them to get to their work. I needed to think about the rain, sunscreen, their safety on the road, even take over their work when they gave me an excuse good enough. That was five years ago--I actually don't remember the exact year. I went to my email just now to recollect. Well, probably no one is going to "recollect" this bundle of paper well shaded from the outdoor elements. The picture itself doesn't show but there is a canopy of trees above it. So who knows, maybe it's been there for five years. My son mentioned that summer he knew of someone who would do that, just th...
ReplyDeleteA leaf unfurls, a page unscrolls
Green sheath of promise
In diaries foretold
Vein on branched sinew
Strikes a day, taunts the night
Lean is Spring without dew
Hands from throne to clay
Know no strangers or bounds
In holes they clasp to pray