edgy pain

(for Noelle)

now? well, ache is a good term -
still aching inside,
why? distance, absence, hurts, loneliness,
facing up to these, and the aching for
what can't be faced up to.
yet, moments of solace transpire,
last night i opened the package that
held the book, your book, and then
i turned the light out, walked over
and lay down on the bed in near total
darkness, i held the book and all the words
to my chest, in the dark
wondering what dreams within,
what exorcisms might await,
what wisdom wants to speak,
what tears to be shared,
what shame to expose,
what hurts to let go,
i let it flow over me and through into
my heart, enfolded in darkness, only the nightlight
of the alarm clock face nearby in an otherwise blackened room
and those words clutched tightly to me
then turning on the lamp,
i began to read...

Hill Born

Hill Born
by Henry Dalton
(from the book of the same title "Hill Born")
(Copyright 1954 THE KALEIDOGRAPH PRESS)


We are the hill born. Townfolks gawk
At us on Saturdays
And keep their distance. They smile at our talk
And look down on our country ways.

Our bodies are shaped by rocky slopes.
Our thoughts are bent to the plow.
And we are slow of speech. Our hopes
Are such as hills allow.

The taste of pine is in our wells,
Its biting green on our sky.
We are born to love hill tastes and smells.
Wild grape and crab apple are wry.

The summerness of plowing gives way
To far autumn horns of the hunter.
Sharp axes on oak and hickory
Ring out like bells all winter.

When joy is a flower or grief's a nettle
Our words pull up to a halt.
Don't smile, townfolks. If we talk too little
It's not our fault:

For hills are possessive, hills are bitter;
Hills are jealous of their young.
Folks blame it on the cat -- but I know better.
The hills got our tongue.

-----------------------
A good friend of mine trades in antiques along with a few "odds and ends". He said someone offered him a box of junk, which he claimed this book of poems by Henry Dalton out of that box. Great save for James. Thanks brother!


The poems have a sort of Gaelic connection to the land and nature. The collection has deep resonance with rural south of the mid 20th century.

Take a Hike

that is, Take a hike, if you want to...
we did - and I got something cool to share
lots of fungi!
maybe it's okay to share fungus - with friends... ;)
if it is a jpeg of something growing in the woods.

Hope your day has been great.

Plus I received this award today - extra special - and dear to my heart it is...




"I'd like to pass this award over to LarryG." - Mama Zen's wisdom - "Uplifting, sweet, and funny; that's LarryG."

Now y'all listen to Mama Zen! Ya'hear!