“Swing low sweet chariot – coming for to carry me home”
Banks nudges the door open with his nose because
John is blowing cottonwood seed from the deck
From his wheel- chair.
In an Odyssey of our own
Mythology came to bite us
Not a lethal doze
But way more then I would of asked for
If I lament too much I will be lost so instead
I will show you things I like
The bird at the feeder, the flowers in the vase- Banks asleep in the sun
The bird sounds- even the sharp ones
Dead flies on the sill, sunlight
My old hands, that I am writing
That the day is mine, that I can rest if I want to.
her soup pot 
Saw a glib and challenging bumpersticker this morning:
Love the problem you are trying to solve
And those dead flies, keep it rolling beside that river
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I hope you did rest. Yes, even dead flies on the sill are beautiful. Life is always dishing up new adventures, and supposedly, they are always perfectly what each of us is needing in that moment. I can think of quite a few times when that notion has been hard to swallow. However, in this moment the pendulum has finally swung in a direction I like, but being me, I am waiting for the other shoe to go chunking down onto the floor. I should know better. Positive thinking et.al.! I hope you do. Feel positive that is. That better days are ahead. I imagine that with your artist eye that you see the beauty around you more than the rest of us, or at least more intensely. That’s why me, an average Joe, loves summer so much. It is bursting with such beauty that is almost impossible to ignore. Here’s hoping you’re having a lovely day. charlie
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