Re:turning a black eye

I can take it.
Being in the shadow
of a boxing bag
sour breed,
brooding
Re: return
too cold.

Returning piece by peace

Showering in a Redwood Forest

For Bonnie
P asked me if I would like to take a shower and wash my hair in her stall. At first I said no. Then I decided I would take a shower in her stall, where I decided to take the time to wash my hair. And then I lingered in the mist of it all, hovering upstream before I tested the silt.

Valentine's Day desserts

As though enough is not enough, I continue to indulge in the sweetness at my roots.

Managed to enter the Hillside Club on Cedar in Berkeley this evening, as the last person to be offered standing room only, where Haydn Reiss was showing his filmed interview of conversations between poets Robert Bly and William Stafford. "Even trees deserve their place." Artist, come home. "Find what the world is trying to be." W. Stafford.

The Day before the Day before Yesterday

Sunday 31 January.
The sun shone, the air was warm and balmy. Plum trees and daffodils were in bloom, not to mentioned the tulip trees generously laden with giant petals.
On the way home from our Sunday outing to the Camaldoli Hermitage in Lucia, we stopped by the Julia Pfeifer Falls in Big Sur.
Some days are more bountiful than others.

RE:turn to banagrams

Gotta make a note of these new words, otherwise I am likely to forget:
bogey (verb meaning to rouse trouble, also a golf term that means just one over par), bogie (framework mounted on wheels under a carriage), wen (a cyst, usually in scalp or genitals), paeon - my favorite word for tonight (a written, spoken or musical expression of enthusiastic praise or rapturous joy), clew (a skein, or a verb meaning to thread), loup (to leap or jump), loupe (a magnifying glass especially one of a jeweller or watchmaker).

RE:turn, whose turn?

Rich and intensive day yesterday: drove across Sears Highway, along the upper bay mud flats and bird sanctuaries, followed the Petaluma River northeast. Arrived at a wonderful little Taverna (Papa's) for a long visit with several good ol' close friends from college days.
Returned later in the evening to Berkeley and the chatter of young college girls from NYC who had gathered over the weekend to attend the funeral of a classmate, just engaged to be married, and who had died the week earlier of an overdose of heroin. Age 24, exodus from youth according to epidemiological studies? Drugs, exodus of immortals according to death reports. REminded me of the sixties and the summer of love, and felt my brain begin to sizzle in the cross currents of youthfull communication.
Still nursing a headache after the intensity of the day...coupled with my inability (age, hearing defect, lack of adequate references allergies and perhaps a glass to much) to integrate and process young female chatter ... which also made it difficult to make sense of bananagrams.
Today's competence development exercise: PALE + MUD = GEM, or better yet, don't try to swallow more than you can chew...