Gentle mornings
Hello friends. Here is a photo from my reading at The Globe in Athens, 2017. As I get older I am more grateful for the early morning hours. Consider them a “gearing up” for the regular visits from Right at Home, regular exercise, and the helpful presence of Carl, my sidekick, who helps me remain active and writing these posts. Here is a poem from 2018 that expresses my thoughts of becoming older. Considering the alternative I am always thankful. Best, Gene.
Gentle Mornings
I wake up under a pall of sadness
with burdens of old age and a lingering cold.
Cats Max and Tony land on the bed
to dance a silent Kabuki.
Stiff-eyed I see a cool blue fog
slipping away from leafless tree tops,
so quiet on this special Oconee vista,
urging a poem against decline.
A lifetime of racing toward goals
conditions me to spring up ready to go.
Did Dante have a special nook in Purgatory
for the lazy, or were these sleepy mystics
waiting for a glimpse of Beatrice?
By rushing we miss the Zen gift
that opens on its own time.
My cats hop down to a gentle morning.
