focus pocus

What to make of these early days of summer when spring hasn't even settled in yet? What to do about thoughts of July when it's only March? Here I look out the window (window is open) and the intersection is a carpet of bright sun. Grass not completely green yet for they are only now beginning to breathe. This is the excitement. This is me sitting here about to finish another piece of story. I turn off my music. I focus. Here it goes.

the best is yet to come

always there's a kiss we haven't experienced, an embrace that triggers something you never knew existed... I say I need to find myself before I find love. Yet I don't deny the chance of Love finding me before I find myself. I insist that Love shall find me without me having to find her, but myself, oh myself, this I have to find. He doesn't come to me. But there she is shaking her head. She says, you do have to find her. I don't believe her. Many times she has entered when I least expected, and I know well how possible it is that she might appear before I ever come close to finding myself. She, on the other hand, takes delight in seeing me finding myself. I find it captivating! -- she says.

short hop for the shortstop

to let myself go with hands and feet agile like Derek Jeter fielding ground balls that take me to my right I reach out the glove hand elevate and toss to first in time... well in time... light tapping on my shoulder... over there's a picture of a woman clinging a piece of silk sitting on top of a convertible how cliched an image... a glimpse of an MV from the eighties... allow me to go to go lonely is the heart like rigid cotton fabric what are you trying to say? If I skip enough and be on my toes at all times I'll be able to field any ground ball coming between second and third, line drives, even bloop flyballs that go up and up as I reach out over the shoulder and there I am with my back shining in the sun and the commentator goes he's got it he's got it!!