Observe perpetually.
I often walk Minnie around the perimeter of this approximate three acres we call Merry Mount observing the sights, hearing the sounds, smelling the scents, tasting the fruit, touching the textures, feeling the bodily aches, and attempting to be fully aware. I am uniquely alive.
“Poetry” defined by poet/author Babette Deutch:
Poetry: The art which uses words as both speech and song, and more rarely, as typographical patterns, to reveal the realities that the senses record, the feelings salute, the mind perceives, and the shaping imagination orders.
The Walk
A day in October.
Minnie leads.
Gold/Green fields,
Azure sky,
Fluffy clouds.
Silence.
Hawk whistles,
Killdeer squawk,
Chickens cluck,
Goats yodel.
Chimes ring,
Willow wheezes.
Silence.
Junk Road roars.
Stomach growls.
Bones creak.
Ankles ache.
Silence.
Crickets chirp,
Bats juke,
Evening emerges.
Minnie yelps.
475 steps.
Silence.
CPW
Thus begins my sixty-eighth year.
Shit happens, but I experience bliss.
CPW
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