remember the days of ties and skirts, ironed pants, dark shoes and socks heels and hose? now we can wear whatever bumps into our fingers in the closet, wrinkled or spotted, holed or stretched in fact, you could get away with most things you’d find in a 10-year-old’s drawer no one to answer to, you make the schedule choose the people or stay at home, practice self-awareness, without the awareness part - make it all about you Guess what old farts? no need to be adul

Tahquitz Creek is empty of water and walking shadows the green-brown grass along its bank is quite tough, making the wind go through it while the homeless sleep near it, and coyotes snake their way around both though their awful howls from a bloody night-hunt cry only in a year-old memory and the crazy man standing in mud, arguing with a March sunset never returned the sand is smooth now the rabbits must be happy to see only their footprints

doesn’t bother me that I can only run2026 a short dash in a pinch and not fall on my face walking slowly let’s the mind wander - who had the time before to explore those roads? and sitting here in the face of a morning sun it’s easy to see who and what I’ve become more difficult is the when question - the timing for what’s coming with the why questions aiming to bring wisdom to my confusing life in the early days I was sure I’d have created a catalogue of answers b