insights at 74 too limited, too late too few to mention flawed happiness a butterfly with a torn wing I fly a little funny but who flies straight? no roads in the air and even if there were I’d still have gone offroad, gotten lost broken down Don’t we all like to get there the hard way, our own way, and hope there’s a there their

a seed is a package of promises waiting for rain a baby is a package of promises waiting for affection both take their time, checking off each promise, one after the next a lifetime of them, properly ordered leads to the final hurdle, the moment a sunflower explodes, becomes its own sun, and someone’s love triggers another’s heart do you see the pattern? life is the recycled pledge of giving for life to become a surprise

I had a memory today, high green canopy pine needle floor woodpecker echoes sunrays slicing deep shade, throwing spotlights on little purple flowers a clump of ferns and the back of a young deer staring straight at me this conglomeration of images, weekend walking in the Adirondacks on a path through paradise, in my 20’s, confused and miserable this time of year here afternoon walks are still uncomfortable, sweaty, hot, windless shade is lean, the sun sears yet, there’s