Welcome to my blog. Here I discuss my life experiences and the fascinating people I meet along the way. I also document my adventures in writing, reading, and cooking. Hope you have a nice stay!



My mind's eye can not see him,

No voice echoes through gray hallways,

Our skin hardly met. Where is he?

Afterlife is our memory.


The least vestige in a beam of

Light is the foundation for a

Picture as vast as space and time.


Just a tinge wafts through corridors,

Of my mind, born on a breeze that

Wrings his essence from a stale whiff.


His house, his car, his every place

Surrounds me with each breath.

His books, his laugh, his everything,


Borne on memory frothed waves; his

Fusty, dry paged erudition,

Marbled with blue cigar smoke stories,


Mingled with the grease and spice of

Cajun feasts, lightly accented

By bitter, sweet sweat of his life’s


Work and play, wedded with acrid

Fish oil and sweet gun powder

That stuck to this sportsman tight as


The ever present ether and 

Alcohol, dental paste and clean

Steel that tell of much Autumn work.


Shrouding this and macerating

It is the desiccated yet

Weighty dust of his 96 years.


Now, I realize him; like the

August oak that withers in our

Youth. Only a fragrance remains,

But enough to capture his nature.


Turning Tree

Turning Tree