Before picking up the quill…

One lived

One died

One smiled

While another sighed

Before crying

Life’s Provocations causing

The unknown no longer

Yet reason without explanation’s given

Upon thousands of days

Many years have come and gone

We grasp and linger

Life’s soldiers

Carrying on

Another day will be displayed

Once more we pray

When good passes us by

We waited too long

“Too late for dreams”

My latest title

Skips in and out

Without meaning

Within one’s mind eye

Perhaps living has exceeded want or need

“An Uneasy Occurrence”

       It was two o’clock in the morning, during one of those humorless, provoking, un-rehearsed moments which seemingly come to visit more often these days.  Without warning, I‘m unable to sleep. In general, I’m pissed off. Really, really pissed!

(Two hours had passed since placing my most recent book on hold; It sat on a nightstand adjoining my bed, of course with all lights out. As is the usual case, I had dropped off into “da harv’s” dreamland. Some way, somehow, almost always unsolicited, they arrived:  a parade of characters moved in and out. This time the place was Brooklyn, New York, the year 1941.A group of children, under the watchful eyes of their mothers, serving as protective guards, kept a vigil as their children marched in a circle, each waving little handheld American flags.)

       Ours is a free country! I don’t like the idea that it’s becoming an acceptable format for regular people like me to take their families, and to influence friends, and business associates as well, into moving from this beautiful world of California, in order to restore some form of financial independence as merely the mainstay for possible survival.

       Wait a minute, I thought. Where did all the marching kids go? And what happened to Public School 233? And how in the name of hell did I get to be ninety years old? All those books, and all those writers. “In and out, up and down, and all around town”. There with me whether a dream or awake, I still march and carry my American flag. Asleep or awake.

-da harv

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