Second Thoughts # 5 – Clean Getaways

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It’s 8:15 P.M. on a Monday evening nineteen ninety-something, and my last load of laundry is two-quarters away from being done. I dig through a pile of old magazines and find one with a half-finished crossword. The hum of the dryer is soothing… hypnotic to a focused folder. Pearl Jam plays on a scratchy radio above the pop machine that never works. As a spring night hue casts in against a long wooden table of folded clothes and empty baskets reaching where I sat, a bell jingles. I’m the last one there. The sometimes friendly middle-aged attendant who’s been watching the one-channel TV eyeballs my sightline up the far wall across from me. Toward an overly huge numbered clock fixed on it. Below reads the hours of business. He silently without words offers me a delicate cycle amount of time by tapping his watch before my clean getaway ends its cycle. I nod in appreciation for the fifteen minutes and go back to my crossword tapping a half-chewed pen…

Let’s see… 6 Down, a bottle with a narrow neck…?

Second Thoughts # 4 – Reely Missed

Relying solely on a section of the newspaper for a movie choice. The excitement of going down through the listings and reading the few lines of script that best described the movie with so few words. You’d spend extra time on the showings with an accompanying photo being most likely the blockbusters. Debate with your fellow movie-goer until the show times force you to pick. Shit, it’s twenty-to. We have to leave if we want to make the 6:00.

I’m telling you. It was a vibe, a feel, an event. I miss it on second thought and wish sometimes we didn’t have to go so fast. – Ash 

Come Rise, My Sun

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my winter retreat was lonely
flurries turned into storms
dark skies seemed always
cold bit me every second
ice through my veins stiffened from life
sharpen gales to cut me away
I was polar from everything
sitting barren
until her voice
her light
all that warmth from beyond
chiselled me free of that void capsule
I am her sun
she is my days

Earth to Ash Podcast Episode # 10 – Posts of Christmas Past!

Welcome back, join me and my continuing conversation about my thoughts, feelings, and emotions to the world around me.

In this episode, I talk about how thinking about the great Christmases of the past can make you excited for the Christmases of the future. Join me for a few memories with some of the backstories. Oh, and as always, I throw in a poem, no wait, a Christmas poem for good measure. 

Happy Holidays!!

Under This One Light

under this one light

in the amber hue, I have my portal to then

an eve painted in summer

teenage banter filled the air as crushes bloomed

and comradery flourished

cool breezes were another layer of skin

traffic and the passerbys provided background noise

like an orchestra playing a scene of those wonder years

time dared not show its face where we ran, we played

all of us together having no clue one day we would grow apart

as age banished our internal youth

but for that very moment, a looping memory was being created

for everyone, I’m sure, for me… for sure

against the fade of those nights that will stand the test of tomorrows to come

I remember because each second I stand here in the illuminated golden of right now

my heart minted in aurulent

keeping this memory where I leave it

under this one light

A Lifetime Between Us

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I run toward nothing

I have nowhere to go but I’m running

away from the person you think I am

away from the shadow you say I cast

my heart getting weaker the further I go

there is no voice calling my name

no soul missing mine

my blood is useless

it means nothing to anyone anymore

soon I will be far away

nothing will bring me back

life will have stretched the whole distance

from where I was to where you left me

a lifetime too late

Blueberry Hill

when the blueberries come back…so do you 
we’re together again
scraping and scrounging along the hillside 
every three paces we fill our cups 
 
the colour blue today is for happiness 
its sweet taste…a reminder of your touch 
as I hold a few on the day they first appear 

the air is the same chill
trees with the same tinge of change
cloud shadows still pass over me like they did
I see them at my feet

I am seven again
catching up with your pace
as my bucket spills over
on blueberry hill









A Walk to Bartender

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6:05 kicking rocks
every stride a pebble or two
summer hugging me the whole way
the sun was slowly packing up for the day 
and the moon would be here in a few hours 
Saturday so lazy dogs paid no mind to pesky flies 
or to an orange cat nibble-ling a rickety fence 
right there, in front me as my freedom faded away

6:06 I placed my gaze everywhere 
taking in as much still time as I could 
before drunkards beckon me 
fill me full of lies, blow smoke in my face
tell me I’m cute when no one’s watching
and shout more regretful things 
make promises…break promises 
dance 
sing
love 
hate
take swings
jest 
do it all past the pale of moonlight
or until clocks shoo them away

to the place they all knew my name
the walk to a bartender
was a rehearsal
for a keeper of tabs
a keeper of secrets
a keeper of ale
it’s 6:07
what can I get ya…