Time Traveling

Sunday, January 5, 2025

The Major Oak

British Library digitised image from page 430 of "The Illustrated Guide to Sheffield and the surrounding district, etc", by John Taylor, of Sheffield. Sheffield, 1879.

The Major Oak

There is a tree

in England-

a huge old oak

THE MAJOR OAK

a symbol

that sprawls significant

holding birds, book readers,

dreamers, tourists

and workers

to name just a few.

Long ago, it is said,

Robin Hood crept up

having taken

from some

obscenely wealthy CEOs

to give to the poor...

hiding in its branches

from corporate greed.

Monday, March 20, 2023

Sell Sell Sell

Too much too much

too much TV, too many memes

and jokes

and lists

and likes

and don't do dosey doe

Too much- drift

on a steam stream of streaming

game show bells ding ding ding

commercials wail and yelp

yup too too too much

everywhere

neon signs flash

turning me off.

Prayer is All

Prayer is all

that can be

when worried...

Hope- hope

for the best

when the worst has been.

Hope- hope

for a heaven and a God

or Goddess

who can hear

and answer a frantic prayer.

Amen

Perches

Juliet's Balcony

Perches

Juliet's balcony

in Verona-

my thoughts flit

to elaborate

bird palaces

in Istanbul

& then quickly home again

perched here on our creek

a wooden deck here for now

as the sun light ignites me

so alive for now

knowing no myth

no fame or name

will save this house

and view

from time.

Sculpting Snow Nudes

The one lane bridge & Glen Allen Mill on the Yellow Breeches Creek

Sculpting Snow Nudes

Did anyone call my mother

to let her know

that my teenage self

(way back when) was

sculpting reclining snow nudes-

voluptuous beings shaped

in newly fallen fresh snow

every winter

on the white bridge.

A narrow one lane white bridge

across the creek of our childhood

down a country road

across from the old mill

still there.

Red bricks, blue sky, white bridge, brown earth-

winter skating on a frozen pond

my virgin self imaging art

before it melts.

My Thoughts Slip

Last night dressed for bed

looking down at the blanket

wondering what we'll do this winter

when it is cold again- then startled

when I remember it is winter now,

and I am embarrassed

ashamed...

Time and time again my thoughts slip

as more and more shadows become 3-D

reality.

Days of the week blur- months- years

all blur, faster than the speed of light

thoughts bend, names get lost

words falter, fall away, I lose my mind

I think, as I lose my memory, maybe...

But I feel,

I feel kindness,

I feel love,

I feel beauty,

I feel safe sometimes

so very safe

by my self.

Friday, August 6, 2021

The Sand Now ... an Aging poem by Anne Selden Annab

The Sand Now

The sand now

is such a challenge.

Balance, strength

endurance.

I think I can't,

just can't.

Every ten small

staggering

steps

I stop,

just can't...

catch my breath.

But I do

and onward

towards the ocean

I trudge

exhausted

overwhelmed

and yet

such delight

as the Atlantic

grows louder,

closer, I can

just barely

can,

and am.