Sunday, October 14, 2018


Elgie Tapp's barn.
  He was a neighbor down from Chicago to central Missouri in the 50's to purchase 200 acres to farm with mules and raise a family.  Refractory clay was found on the land,  and extracted to form four fish ponds (after) and at 20 cents a ton was enough to purchase a tractor and mechanized equipment.

The barn and he are gone now but the structure lasted as long as it could with a compromised roof.
Made of  local oak and nailed when oak was new and soft.  Over the years oak becomes very hard and must be drilled before a nail is possible.

Oddly enough I found a poem about barns:


What holds up
the toothless barns;
their sun-bleached beams
textured and warmed
to the touch;
alive with memories
and long forgotten hay?

Oh, those winds, do blow
howling through
each opening
trying to force open,
the resistance of owls-
eyes and feathers
softly occupying
rafters without pigeons

You’ve sloped,
here and there,
into the body
of the landscape,
surrounding you

You’ve sheltered
young lovers, vagrants,
and beer-drinking youth
in your senior years
Loyal and steadfastly
upholding your purpose-
refusing to retire

Your beautiful bleached bones
familiar etchings
across lines
where land meets
blue skies-

The sun
sets and rises
around you-
You, that
holds time

Thursday, June 28, 2018

Dead Tree of Life

Turkeys can fly (at least this one which landed on our long-dead cottonwood did).  That limb has since fallen off making this tree even less stable.  For two seasons now bluebirds have nested in those holes near the top so it would be nice if tree could last one more season.  I have recently propped it up with a 2X4 at  45° to the ground . . . hope runs eternal.

I have since quit the facebook--- too addicting, and I guess that's the point. They pretend privacy is a priority, whereas the priority is selling information of the "friends" for commercial and political purposes.  More time to read and work on some blog posts.  Time better spent.

Tuesday, May 01, 2018

Spring be Here '18

Still Pond 2 Isabella Plantation, Richmond Park, London, UK

For my girl

A moment of happiness,
you and I sitting on the verandah,
apparently two, but one in soul, you and I.
We feel the flowing water of life here,
you and I, with the garden's beauty
and the birds singing.
The stars will be watching us,
and we will show them
what it is to be a thin crescent moon.
You and I unselfed, will be together,
indifferent to idle speculation, you and I.
The parrots of heaven will be cracking sugar
as we laugh together, you and I.
In one form upon this earth,
and in another form in a timeless sweet land.                               

Thursday, February 22, 2018


                                     I died from minerality and became vegetable;
                                   And From vegetativeness I died and became animal.
                                   I died from animality and became man.
                                  Then why fear disappearance through death?
                                  Next time I shall die
                                  Bringing forth wings and feathers like angels;
                                  After that, soaring higher than angels -
                                  What you cannot imagine,
                                   I shall be that.

                                  Rumi was a 13 century Persian poet and mystic.