Tuesday, February 22, 2011

Perpetual Quest

They'd rather watch you walk than find space for you on the bench. Says something about both sides of the conversation. The apex of the decade in town was a low line on the beach, but reached with always an eye on far and imagined beacons. Now we look for new prospects in old fields, dragging behind us a beachcomber's trophies that look out of place inland. Beach trash.

The image is not of modest achievement, but of greater promise unfulfilled.

Saturday, February 12, 2011

The Suit has been hung for a while.

I've been absent, intentionally. I'm tired, a bit. I may come back. Or not.

I'm trying to be objective. But I have a strong viewpoint. I have a bias for mutual benefit.

I'm looking for new work. I'm leaving a homeplace. I'm seeking a lilypad; I don't ask for a rainbow.

The skies have been the color of battleships for weeks, it seems, but the sun has shone whilst I've sat in the office.

Snow that is not fresh is not uplifting.

See you here from time to time.