a happy dog and her and i

it's been a long time since
walking in the distant primordial woods

morels and deer...leafy trees and an absence of fear:  peace!

looking for a place outdoors to take a leak

exploring with youthful curiosity the nearby creek

 i'm bemused, too, and puzzled by the latest news 

 remembering hours of watching middle school girls stroke their hair
me, polishing cheap leather shoes

 remembering how the day comes undone
watching the setting sun
dropping through the soft and steady rain

now, heavy clouds hanging low
i'm forgetting the mayonnaise
forgetting where to eventually go

a happy dog and i sitting on a fallen log

peering through the lifting fog
feeling restful with extra love to give
 together also with my lady and our fuller life to live
holding her hand
she holding mine
we're sipping wine
red in the nighttime and white during the day
remembering what else we might say
looking for adventure in whatever comes our way

 and dawning, there are shadows on the high stone wall
the wild ravens float and circle and caw

the great men of old once so thoughtful and bold

in peril of being forgotten and sold. 

musing,  i'm wondering about lost arts:
valentine candies eaten like tiny hearts
 my Halloween top hat and low-rent landlord cries
valued friends and great-grandmother's fresh-baked pies
an RCA transistor radio playing scratchy sounds of American trash
i've lost 

in the middle of the Eisenhower Tunnel
looking for Mega Millions of jackpot cash
reciting Shakespeare and his thoughtful English verse
stuck in both forward gear and reverse

 speeding on a northern boulevard
the world in my rear view mirror with traffic noise
remembering second grade recess and rowdy boys
a price tag hanging around our playground necks

saying NO CASH!  please include only checks

 Louis Armstrong and his band keeping the beat
shadows on an empty small town street
looking for my dreams in a black & white cab, which i eventually grab,

and notice once and for all time:

the world is too beautiful! 

i'm standing tall

by my ringing anvil, hammer in hand, working the hot piece of glowing mild steel into a magic spoon,

having started at nine and finished up by noon. 

 here, i offer this word song as my spiritual tune.