Aging
What is it like to be 93?Well, I’m still hanging in thereAnd well it might beAs I try to keep busyI feel that I mustMy theory – it’s betterto wear out than rust. Oh, I have a few problemssome pains … Continue reading →
Category Archives: Prose & Poetry
Turning the Sod
He is dressed in the customary farmer’s work clothes of the time: blue gingham shirt, overalls worn out at the knees, leather boots, and a straw hat with a sweat-stained brim. Gently leaning on the plow handles, he takes a large … Continue reading →
Fetching The Cows
As a young boy growing up on a small dairy farm in Vermont I had a few afternoon and after school chores to do, such as filling the wood box behind the kitchen stove, chunks for the parlor stove, and … Continue reading →
An Adirondack Morning
In a comfortable Adirondack chair feet up on the railing a cup of fresh-brewed coffee in one hand,bagel in the other I gaze out at the lake and watch as a light mist slowly rises, and is escorted away.
Continue reading →Seasons – Goodbye Summer
Autumn leaves are changing From green to red and gold. Butternuts are falling… Summer is growing old. Partridges are drumming, Squirrels run to and fro… Birds in congregations Soon south will start to go. Cold weather will soon be with … Continue reading →
An Evening Meal in Paris
A light rain is falling on the canopy of an outdoor café as we sit with dozens of others gathered there. It is 10:00 p.m – a typical time for Parisians to dine. As we examine the menu, I am … Continue reading →
Seasons
Short nights – long days Clear skies — no haze Flowers bloom — birds sing Thanks to God – Another spring. Lawns to mow – What a bummer All too soon Another summer. Shorter days — longer nights – Nature … Continue reading →
The Tree Climbing Model T (A true story)
What is that strange-looking car I see? Well, believe it or not, it’s a Model T ‘Twas said it’s a car that all could afford. The maker, none other than Henry Ford. It’s a simple car – with “three on … Continue reading →
The Old Worn-out Shoe
Tell me your story- Old worn-out shoe, Tell me of times long ago When you went out dancing The whole night through. Square dances and parties Hither and yon, And not getting home ‘Till the break of dawn. Morning comes … Continue reading →
Ode To Stephen Van Rensselaer
It was 24 December 1795 — of course there’s no one now alive who remembers that winter day or year when Consistory met with Stephen Van Rensselaer. A man of wealth
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