Wilderness Blues- Ramblings from the Great Land

  I was doing my exercises this morning. I haven't done them for about a week because we had some guests visiting, some long time friends, and it's hard to maintain a schedule. Anyway, I was listening to my Ipod while I pedaled my flabby body. I've got almost a thousand songs on it, so I don't have to listen to the same tune for days if I don't want to. I was bee-bopping to  Crosby, Stills and Nash and Cat Stevens and Lily Kershaw, just totally enjoying myself, as much as I could while gasping for air, when a song I've written about not too long ago came on. It's called The Blessing, by Kari Jobe. I so wish that everyone would just listen to it, at least once. Right now there are a lot of people hurting. Some folks have lost loved ones to sickness, some to suicide because of the foolish restrictions that were put in place; a lot of people have lost their jobs and livelihoods. Many folks are wondering what to expect next. May I suggest that you just listen to...

Although I 've only been on the writing web site, Fan Story for a few weeks, I'm already feeling inspired. I was walking my daughter's dog last week when I noticed that just like in Hoonah, people here don't always clean up after their dogs. Perhaps they think the snow will cover it up. What they fail to realize is that the snow eventually melts, and all that crap is in the streets where people are trying to walk. It's really quite gross, and so I thought I would attempt to write a poem about it. Here it is.                                             I'm out in my yard, reading verse from the bard,                                             When I see that you're walking your dog            ...

Another Day Closer by Mrs. K T                                               morning skies bring more grey clouds and spitting rain-                       filthy windows Her kitchen counter is covered with friends' good  intentions: covered casseroles and sugar-laden desserts. No more room for anything. Refrigerator is full, and so is the freezer. No desire to eat. Someone chipped one of her favorite rooster dishes. Perhaps  tomorrow she will walk to the post office and mail thank-you notes. Even sweep the front porch. Maybe fill the birdfeeders. But today, she remains inside, listening for echoes of his laughter. She picks at a  slice of cold lasagna. Needs more sauce. Her eyes are heavy, but no sleep comes. She wanders throughout empty rooms, clutching a cup of stale coffee she has...