In search of story


Connections: March 15.18


is a four-letter word

shameless, brazen, uncouth

the dig of a bully’s elbow

 the gnaw of a blunted tooth

it stops the clock on the wall

and renders good company mute

makes us ponder our hangnails

and feel like slow-rotting fruit

impolite, crass and unseemly

intrusive, indifferent to plan

from childhood to dotage it stalks us

intractable bogeyman.



Thanks yet again to the S.W. Berg Photo Archives and the ever-ready camera of the curator thereof.




Connections: August 3.17

┬áThis won’t fit into your pocket

and it won’t put you on to the ‘net

but there are so many places you can’t drop it

and it doesn’t mind getting wet.

It doesn’t compete with today

and its digital glossy chronology

but holds to a steady display

of yesterday’s hand-wrought technology.

In gilded and courtly demeanor

it sniffs in aloof pantomime

though a smartphone is somewhat leaner

it’s unmoved by the passing of time.



Thanks yet again to the S.W. Berg Photo Archives.





Two years ago I wrote “Clock” as my tribute to August, the month which turns the garden. August turns me too, and with contented anticipation of the cocoon ahead.

This year I decided to join a community of bloggers on a project called “August Break,” created by Susannah Conway. They agree to post a picture a day as a break from writing. Ha, say I. We’re writers: show us a picture and stand back because we WILL write. A picture is a green light every time. Maybe we are just writing in our heads, but we’re writing. We can’t help it; we’re weak that way.

Anyway, I tried to sign up, but the page froze. I took that as a sign from my muse. Not for me, this community of August Breakers.

So I decided to become a Community of One. I will tell the story of my August, one picture at a time, and try to let the pictures speak for themselves.

My pictures will be my countdown, this year’s clock, gently tick-tocking August away into its inevitable September.

Hummingbird with attitude

Hummingbird with attitude