DIGEST-SUN
Leaves from the maple tree
dally in the breeze
then shake.
A squirrel
the reason
emerging from its roof-top leap
to speed
head
first
down
to the
lawn,
return
and stretch on a limb.
My take,
September’s sun warms its tum
and the gleanings
nosed from under
my bird feeder.
Small
wonder.
DRK
12/6/14
Monday, September 30, 2013
Wednesday, September 18, 2013
DRIVER'S ED
DRIVER’S ED
Emily, a teen somewhere between
permit and license,
needs hours at the wheel
to drive legal.
Returning to Michigan
through the U. P.,
a roadology opportunity
and bonus,
learning to two-car-convoy.
Confident behind the wheel,
when faced with a map and the task,
“Where’s B?
We’re A,”
Emily saw forks in the road going every which way.
She had been trained to drive,
just not to where.
Once on the road,
“Let Emily follow,”
seemed a good rule
though it didn’t allow
for adult loss of control.
Heated discussions
about getting to B
on highways (Who knew?) too new to appear
on our dueling GM and Jaguar GPS gear.
Fortunately, grandchildren cell phone control,
never in doubt,
kept wandering cars
on the same route.
Having been taught to drive by the rules,
“Heed speed limit signs,” comes to mind,
Emily could be excused for being nonplussed
when others abused, passed and took chances.
What do you say?
Black and white roads, once shared,
become gray.
No work in classrooms
or on instructors‘ trails
could prepare for the gut wrench in rain,
discovering a soaring tornado of black
was not part of the storm
but smoke from a fire,
the car's occupants lost
in a tangle of hoses,
ambulances and EMTs.
Emotional rescue --
follow the traffic over a bypass,
a convenient detour
with a bird’s eye view.
Reality sans TV.
Drive on.
Push on,
day two.
Getaway done,
home is now number one.
Can’t get there too soon
so speed up the travel.
Let the neat ends of our holiday unravel
into stiff limbs, backaches and overall
stress.
Yes.
There were challenges on the road,
but Emily took them in stride,
contributed by far
more than her share to our ride
and maybe learned something
beyond driving
with a car.
DRK
July 18, 2013
9/17/13
Emily, a teen somewhere between
permit and license,
needs hours at the wheel
to drive legal.
Returning to Michigan
through the U. P.,
a roadology opportunity
and bonus,
learning to two-car-convoy.
Confident behind the wheel,
when faced with a map and the task,
“Where’s B?
We’re A,”
Emily saw forks in the road going every which way.
She had been trained to drive,
just not to where.
Once on the road,
“Let Emily follow,”
seemed a good rule
though it didn’t allow
for adult loss of control.
Heated discussions
about getting to B
on highways (Who knew?) too new to appear
on our dueling GM and Jaguar GPS gear.
Fortunately, grandchildren cell phone control,
never in doubt,
kept wandering cars
on the same route.
Having been taught to drive by the rules,
“Heed speed limit signs,” comes to mind,
Emily could be excused for being nonplussed
when others abused, passed and took chances.
What do you say?
Black and white roads, once shared,
become gray.
No work in classrooms
or on instructors‘ trails
could prepare for the gut wrench in rain,
discovering a soaring tornado of black
was not part of the storm
but smoke from a fire,
the car's occupants lost
in a tangle of hoses,
ambulances and EMTs.
Emotional rescue --
follow the traffic over a bypass,
a convenient detour
with a bird’s eye view.
Reality sans TV.
Drive on.
Push on,
day two.
Getaway done,
home is now number one.
Can’t get there too soon
so speed up the travel.
Let the neat ends of our holiday unravel
into stiff limbs, backaches and overall
stress.
Yes.
There were challenges on the road,
but Emily took them in stride,
contributed by far
more than her share to our ride
and maybe learned something
beyond driving
with a car.
DRK
July 18, 2013
9/17/13
Thursday, April 25, 2013
A HYMN TO HER
A HYMN TO HER
Who got us here
Dark when we backed out
and later parked
at DTW.
Traveled in a need-a-nap kind of way
to a Sheraton layover
on San Diego’s bay.
SUN IS COOL
Octane level, high.
Anticipation, the fuel.
Cruise Hawaii?
HI!
No one to cater to.
Just we two
except for the guys nearby
in buses and bars.
One lives in his yacht outside.
Fragrant grass, fresh, mowed,
not cut from Michigan's cold
February mold.
Pansy and camellia accents.
They grow a lot when it's not so hot.
Nice touch, southern Cal,
to your winter hospitality.
Harbor Drive, a chance to walk.
Spring in step
and nearly on the calendar.
My usual pains seem to wane
unburdened by work-out aims.
For a city’s views we took a trolley.
Eventually lured by Balboa’s gardens.
Cactus in one, lunch in another
and an orchid pause ‘neath redwood lathes.
Evening at the motel.
Outdoor space heaters
could not warm the patios.
Dined instead inside.
TIME OF THE ANCIENT MARINER
We sail the ocean, blue,
gray, white, dyed or bald,
never far from our jackets and sweaters.
Game sailors, we
negotiate the seas
armed with canes, walkers, power chairs
and, God bless 'em,
our nurses and aides.
No spring break party ship
nor Disney cruise for kids --
this, a longer trip for those
with time to ply the seas
entertained
toward paradise.
Hours to read, nap, shop duty free,
play cards, nap, visit the casino, hot tubs and spas,
take in the shows, nap
or just nip
a little booze.
FINALLY FOUND A QUIET
POOLSIDE TABLE.
"ARE YOU EXPECTING A GROUP TO JOIN YOU?"
"NO'S" ANSWER: A GROUP
Our shipmates are old.
Odd
how easily our conversations go.
Odder still,
my difficulty keeping pace
on the promenade.
Elevator mats ease the way.
“Tuesday.”
BEAUTY AND THE BEAST
If you've an aesthetic eye
beauty may elude you here.
The beautiful, the young have no time
to while away at sea.
Land locked work sites pay too dear.
We’ve had time to settle our bits,
sag a bit
and find ourselves, the aging plain,
alongside the others
on that downward plane
toward hard-to-notice.
Little desire to steal second looks,
flirt or fantasize.
Now what meets my eyes, . . . ,
a couple rapt in books,
he more so than she --
two for one happy hour wine,
she refills her glass from his, . . . ,
companions in their 80s
willing to share
cruises
and what life brings their way --
he keeps her moving.
she tends his hearing aids, . . . ,
a woman who spends between-cruise time
checking travel deals,
arranging rental cars
and reading Rick Steves
to keep her husband’s livelihood
alive.
LIFE ON THE SEA
IT'S TO DIE FOR
On the one hand's digits
I use to count my cruises
some guests count the places
they have yet to visit.
Joan from Juno cruises again and again
her home town.
In her words, assisted living
in sin.
Seasoned by the many days a year they spend away
and the friends they see from sea to sea
they gladly share their lore.
“Cruise Critics,” on the net.
Able to afford the longer cruises
of a month or more,
they work the angles,
to get cappuccino free,
how much wine you can bring aboard,
and get it to the dining room.
When seniors spend two-thirds of the year at sea
the risk is real
of lost lives.
We were told one ship had five.
They don’t turn the ship around
or return to port. Instead,
they store you in a cooler, . . . ,
next to the Jello.
HAWAIIAN MUSIC HAPPY HOUR
UKELELE AND HULA LESSONS,
YOUNG COUPLE
WITH FLOWERS IN THEIR HAIR
PREP THE GUESTS FOR A TALENT SHOW
Some tales border legendary.
82-year-old Ann from Ketchikan
holds up Claudia from Puget Sound,
a 94-year-old cruising queen.
Another recalls five dialysis patients
rounding Cape Horn.
Then a jumper’s tragic suicide
on day 33 of a 49 day cruise.
The ship circled three times,
to most of the guests, unknown.
THE ARRIVAL
Day one, Hilo
Task one, wake up the cell phones!
Disappointed one,
no wahines garlanding us with leis.
Stop one, samples from a candy shop.
Then coffee tasting at Holo,
a coffee plantation.
Lessons on growing, harvesting, drying,
storing, milling, decaffeinating, tasting.
The wine nerds have nothing on us.
Fortified.
On to
Hawaii’s Volcanoes National Park.
INSIDE OUT
An incongruous mix
of misty dripping rain forests
and a black rocky moonscape
of pit volcanoes,
bottomless chasms
steam vents
and a gray caldera
punctuated by a distant hole
with white steam clouds
and an eerie orange glow.
Come, hike a lava tube.
Feel the earth move?
UPSIDE DOWN
Day two
tender to
Lahaina
on Maui.
Out into the protected bay
where mothers and babies play,
fattening for the venture north
to Alaska’s waters,
food rich with krill.
On the right,
a humpback breached,
whale watching’s holy grail.
We were looking left. Oh well.
There’s one, logging,
asleep afloat.
Then two males fighting
dangerously close
to that tourist boat.
OUT AND ABOUT
Carole's idea, taxi away
from tourism bay.
Freshen up at a tropical plantation.
Outside, growing, rows and rows
of who knows
what. A landscaper’s dream.
Inside, curios,
clean.
Outside, rain, mist, rainbows somewhere
all the time.
Longer pause,
at Iao Valley State Park.
Wailua Falls,
rain dependent, permanent
with 500 inches of rain.
Hiked steps,
too many to count,
although my body took detailed notes.
Driving back to port,
Golfing aficionado?
View Kapalua
By the way, here’s a game.
First one to see an out-of-state license plate.
MYTH AND REALITY
Day three
the port, Nawiliwili,
Kauai, the garden isle.
Hollywood took notice.
So did TV.
We toured to find out why
movies and shows
locate here.
Something to do with
waterfalls, beaches, music,
world class resorts,
and hula dancers.
Gilligan on Moloa’a Bay
George Clooney at Tahiti Nui’s
Elvis at Coco Palms.
The beach for South Pacific.
Need an exotic spot?
Here’s Jurassic Park.
RESURRECTING LIFE
Oahu, Day Four
Punchbowl Cemetery,
Honolulu’s National Cemetery of the Pacific --
since 1948 honoring American lives sacrificed in Pacific wars
and, before that, Hawaiian royalty.
Pearl Harbor Memorial,
manicured, moving.
Crowds.
So much commotion
to experience the silence.
Appropriate venue for reflection
on the silencing of so many
in 1941’s conflagration.
Artist and submariner
rose to the call of new life’s beauty.
Now Lisa and Brett share their home and family
for an afternoon of Kailua hospitality.
Lilikoi and Everett, nearly new,
natural entertainers.
Derrick and Devon doing what teens do,
on the computer.
TURNING AROUND
DRIVING THE SHIP FROM THE CROWS' NEST
DAMNED MARTINI
ALMOST RAN OVER A WHALE
Trip back into the trade winds
38 mph headwind plus 20 mph ship speed
apparent wind speed near 60 mph.
TIME AND AGAIN
Dedicated walkers on the promenade
4 laps to a mile
on a shifting, rolling surface
Through it all, my wife maintains
her three mile standard.
How am I doing?
A plodder.
All faster than I.
But that woman who passed me earlier
seems to have disappeared.
Was that her last lap
of twelve?
Could her walk today be a respite
from her usual 36,
in training for a longer run?
Or was she just out for a bit of fresh air?
Hard to know how I stack up
without knowing their walking stories.
But day 2 was better than day 1.
RANDOM PICK
Invited to cocktails
and dinner at a ship officer's table,
joined by his date from Wyoming.
The rest of our crew,
a retired surgeon and his international travel agent wife,
a Canadian couple of Welsh origin, he a physicist
and a couple on their 110th cruise.
Go figure.
A young Brit, our officer,
is one of many supplied by the world’s navies.
We were reminded of our U. S. Navy friend
who inevitably gets asked,
“Where’s the casino?”
when at formal cruise events
he wears his dress uniform.
My hearing, garbled
so conversation, limited
to the lady next to me,
the travel agent.
She travels with her tours.
Hannah, she said Norway is the destination of choice for dog sled racing.
Delightful dinner.
Candelabra, roses,
and great wine choices.
Orange shrimp, orange cocktail sauce,
salad, soup, surf and turf,
and poached pear for dessert.
We almost decided to blow it off.
Go figure.
BACK AT THE BAY
Solid ground in San Diego, CA
Work those iPhones!
What’s the weather today?
Michigan, winter still.
Sun and eighty here.
Enough sun to worry us at the pool.
Watched a young boy
with a poolside control pad
play helicopter
in a handicapper chair.
HOME WITH HER
An easy trip.
DRK
4/25/13
Who got us here
Dark when we backed out
and later parked
at DTW.
Traveled in a need-a-nap kind of way
to a Sheraton layover
on San Diego’s bay.
SUN IS COOL
Octane level, high.
Anticipation, the fuel.
Cruise Hawaii?
HI!
No one to cater to.
Just we two
except for the guys nearby
in buses and bars.
One lives in his yacht outside.
Fragrant grass, fresh, mowed,
not cut from Michigan's cold
February mold.
Pansy and camellia accents.
They grow a lot when it's not so hot.
Nice touch, southern Cal,
to your winter hospitality.
Harbor Drive, a chance to walk.
Spring in step
and nearly on the calendar.
My usual pains seem to wane
unburdened by work-out aims.
For a city’s views we took a trolley.
Eventually lured by Balboa’s gardens.
Cactus in one, lunch in another
and an orchid pause ‘neath redwood lathes.
Evening at the motel.
Outdoor space heaters
could not warm the patios.
Dined instead inside.
TIME OF THE ANCIENT MARINER
We sail the ocean, blue,
gray, white, dyed or bald,
never far from our jackets and sweaters.
Game sailors, we
negotiate the seas
armed with canes, walkers, power chairs
and, God bless 'em,
our nurses and aides.
No spring break party ship
nor Disney cruise for kids --
this, a longer trip for those
with time to ply the seas
entertained
toward paradise.
Hours to read, nap, shop duty free,
play cards, nap, visit the casino, hot tubs and spas,
take in the shows, nap
or just nip
a little booze.
FINALLY FOUND A QUIET
POOLSIDE TABLE.
"ARE YOU EXPECTING A GROUP TO JOIN YOU?"
"NO'S" ANSWER: A GROUP
Our shipmates are old.
Odd
how easily our conversations go.
Odder still,
my difficulty keeping pace
on the promenade.
Elevator mats ease the way.
“Tuesday.”
BEAUTY AND THE BEAST
If you've an aesthetic eye
beauty may elude you here.
The beautiful, the young have no time
to while away at sea.
Land locked work sites pay too dear.
We’ve had time to settle our bits,
sag a bit
and find ourselves, the aging plain,
alongside the others
on that downward plane
toward hard-to-notice.
Little desire to steal second looks,
flirt or fantasize.
Now what meets my eyes, . . . ,
a couple rapt in books,
he more so than she --
two for one happy hour wine,
she refills her glass from his, . . . ,
companions in their 80s
willing to share
cruises
and what life brings their way --
he keeps her moving.
she tends his hearing aids, . . . ,
a woman who spends between-cruise time
checking travel deals,
arranging rental cars
and reading Rick Steves
to keep her husband’s livelihood
alive.
LIFE ON THE SEA
IT'S TO DIE FOR
On the one hand's digits
I use to count my cruises
some guests count the places
they have yet to visit.
Joan from Juno cruises again and again
her home town.
In her words, assisted living
in sin.
Seasoned by the many days a year they spend away
and the friends they see from sea to sea
they gladly share their lore.
“Cruise Critics,” on the net.
Able to afford the longer cruises
of a month or more,
they work the angles,
to get cappuccino free,
how much wine you can bring aboard,
and get it to the dining room.
When seniors spend two-thirds of the year at sea
the risk is real
of lost lives.
We were told one ship had five.
They don’t turn the ship around
or return to port. Instead,
they store you in a cooler, . . . ,
next to the Jello.
HAWAIIAN MUSIC HAPPY HOUR
UKELELE AND HULA LESSONS,
YOUNG COUPLE
WITH FLOWERS IN THEIR HAIR
PREP THE GUESTS FOR A TALENT SHOW
Some tales border legendary.
82-year-old Ann from Ketchikan
holds up Claudia from Puget Sound,
a 94-year-old cruising queen.
Another recalls five dialysis patients
rounding Cape Horn.
Then a jumper’s tragic suicide
on day 33 of a 49 day cruise.
The ship circled three times,
to most of the guests, unknown.
THE ARRIVAL
Day one, Hilo
Task one, wake up the cell phones!
Disappointed one,
no wahines garlanding us with leis.
Stop one, samples from a candy shop.
Then coffee tasting at Holo,
a coffee plantation.
Lessons on growing, harvesting, drying,
storing, milling, decaffeinating, tasting.
The wine nerds have nothing on us.
Fortified.
On to
Hawaii’s Volcanoes National Park.
INSIDE OUT
An incongruous mix
of misty dripping rain forests
and a black rocky moonscape
of pit volcanoes,
bottomless chasms
steam vents
and a gray caldera
punctuated by a distant hole
with white steam clouds
and an eerie orange glow.
Come, hike a lava tube.
Feel the earth move?
UPSIDE DOWN
Day two
tender to
Lahaina
on Maui.
Out into the protected bay
where mothers and babies play,
fattening for the venture north
to Alaska’s waters,
food rich with krill.
On the right,
a humpback breached,
whale watching’s holy grail.
We were looking left. Oh well.
There’s one, logging,
asleep afloat.
Then two males fighting
dangerously close
to that tourist boat.
OUT AND ABOUT
Carole's idea, taxi away
from tourism bay.
Freshen up at a tropical plantation.
Outside, growing, rows and rows
of who knows
what. A landscaper’s dream.
Inside, curios,
clean.
Outside, rain, mist, rainbows somewhere
all the time.
Longer pause,
at Iao Valley State Park.
Wailua Falls,
rain dependent, permanent
with 500 inches of rain.
Hiked steps,
too many to count,
although my body took detailed notes.
Driving back to port,
Golfing aficionado?
View Kapalua
By the way, here’s a game.
First one to see an out-of-state license plate.
MYTH AND REALITY
Day three
the port, Nawiliwili,
Kauai, the garden isle.
Hollywood took notice.
So did TV.
We toured to find out why
movies and shows
locate here.
Something to do with
waterfalls, beaches, music,
world class resorts,
and hula dancers.
Gilligan on Moloa’a Bay
George Clooney at Tahiti Nui’s
Elvis at Coco Palms.
The beach for South Pacific.
Need an exotic spot?
Here’s Jurassic Park.
RESURRECTING LIFE
Oahu, Day Four
Punchbowl Cemetery,
Honolulu’s National Cemetery of the Pacific --
since 1948 honoring American lives sacrificed in Pacific wars
and, before that, Hawaiian royalty.
Pearl Harbor Memorial,
manicured, moving.
Crowds.
So much commotion
to experience the silence.
Appropriate venue for reflection
on the silencing of so many
in 1941’s conflagration.
Artist and submariner
rose to the call of new life’s beauty.
Now Lisa and Brett share their home and family
for an afternoon of Kailua hospitality.
Lilikoi and Everett, nearly new,
natural entertainers.
Derrick and Devon doing what teens do,
on the computer.
TURNING AROUND
DRIVING THE SHIP FROM THE CROWS' NEST
DAMNED MARTINI
ALMOST RAN OVER A WHALE
Trip back into the trade winds
38 mph headwind plus 20 mph ship speed
apparent wind speed near 60 mph.
TIME AND AGAIN
Dedicated walkers on the promenade
4 laps to a mile
on a shifting, rolling surface
Through it all, my wife maintains
her three mile standard.
How am I doing?
A plodder.
All faster than I.
But that woman who passed me earlier
seems to have disappeared.
Was that her last lap
of twelve?
Could her walk today be a respite
from her usual 36,
in training for a longer run?
Or was she just out for a bit of fresh air?
Hard to know how I stack up
without knowing their walking stories.
But day 2 was better than day 1.
RANDOM PICK
Invited to cocktails
and dinner at a ship officer's table,
joined by his date from Wyoming.
The rest of our crew,
a retired surgeon and his international travel agent wife,
a Canadian couple of Welsh origin, he a physicist
and a couple on their 110th cruise.
Go figure.
A young Brit, our officer,
is one of many supplied by the world’s navies.
We were reminded of our U. S. Navy friend
who inevitably gets asked,
“Where’s the casino?”
when at formal cruise events
he wears his dress uniform.
My hearing, garbled
so conversation, limited
to the lady next to me,
the travel agent.
She travels with her tours.
Hannah, she said Norway is the destination of choice for dog sled racing.
Delightful dinner.
Candelabra, roses,
and great wine choices.
Orange shrimp, orange cocktail sauce,
salad, soup, surf and turf,
and poached pear for dessert.
We almost decided to blow it off.
Go figure.
BACK AT THE BAY
Solid ground in San Diego, CA
Work those iPhones!
What’s the weather today?
Michigan, winter still.
Sun and eighty here.
Enough sun to worry us at the pool.
Watched a young boy
with a poolside control pad
play helicopter
in a handicapper chair.
HOME WITH HER
An easy trip.
DRK
4/25/13
Saturday, February 9, 2013
GOOD THINGS, GOD'S THINGS
GOOD THINGS, GOD’S THING
It started at breakfast with coffee
followed by lunch at the club
then an evening martini.
Interspersed were
texting, tweeting and Skype.
With a little help I got through the day.
And God saw that her creation was good.
My friends at the abbey
take a monks’ sort of pride,
like John with his locusts and honey,
at how little they need
to live life
inside.
The warrior’s horse cannot save.
Ps. 33 (32)
Creation was good . . .
for all, . . . , for all time.
Do I trust my sense of what would be good
for just me, . . . , right now?
Unless the Lord builds the house, we labor in
vain.
Ps. 127 (126)
Parts of my life distract me;
others draw me closer to God
and to others.
The God-in-me may be needed to deal, . . . ,
She has not been called out for awhile.
Can I convince her I am serious about seeking
Her “there”
and the least obstructed distance
from here?
DRK, 2/9/13
6/6/15
It started at breakfast with coffee
followed by lunch at the club
then an evening martini.
Interspersed were
texting, tweeting and Skype.
With a little help I got through the day.
And God saw that her creation was good.
My friends at the abbey
take a monks’ sort of pride,
like John with his locusts and honey,
at how little they need
to live life
inside.
The warrior’s horse cannot save.
Ps. 33 (32)
Creation was good . . .
for all, . . . , for all time.
Do I trust my sense of what would be good
for just me, . . . , right now?
Unless the Lord builds the house, we labor in
vain.
Ps. 127 (126)
Parts of my life distract me;
others draw me closer to God
and to others.
The God-in-me may be needed to deal, . . . ,
She has not been called out for awhile.
Can I convince her I am serious about seeking
Her “there”
and the least obstructed distance
from here?
DRK, 2/9/13
6/6/15
Wednesday, June 6, 2012
OPEN HOUSES
OPEN HOUSES
Spring break traffic going south,
snowbird traffic coming back.
Roads loaded,
slowdowns,
enough to go around.
Hannah and Alyssa, day two,
ready for spring things to do.
Meme and Papa wrest from the past
MAMMOTH CAVE.
Good for their dad
and, with luck, his kids too.
From the start, evidence
of a generation of improvements.
Take the walk to the entrance,
lengthened, made steeper . . .
and less stable.
A money-saving thing?
No sign of the handrail
I am sure we used before.
There is more.
To enter, descend
steps,
enough to operate several escalators.
I am surprised they missed that cue.
The kids, running ahead, lagging behind,
with iPhone camera and flashlight apps,
played games with prehistoric ghosts
or whatever their imaginations enticed
from our dimly lit environment.
On the way out
our aging limbs were sent back
up the eternal steps and walk,
harboring memories of when an ascent like this
would have been fun.
Disney’s improvement, exits which take you through
gift shops directly in front of you.
The kids -- surprise, surprise --
made great use
of their opportunity to exercise.
The cave trip a win,
reaching back again,
why not . . .
SEE ROCK CITY
where gnomes guide
your garden walk
through Swing Along Bridge
and Fat Man’s Squeeze?
At the top, overlook seven states
and savor ice cream.
Then rock wall climb
and conclude with a stroll
through The Village of Nursery Rhymes,
once a grand finale,
now with today’s technology,
a bit of a curiosity.
But who knows where people like Disney
get their ideas?
Our Tennessee fun
ended down
and up
The Incline,
a railway from long ago
built to shuttle maids and butlers
fro and to
their lofty employ.
Now we tourists,
with nothing better to do,
ferry up and down
or down and up.
You must do two.
MOUNTAIN HOUSE
Destination one,
Blue Ridge, Georgia.
Southern tip, Appalachian Trail.
Check your map.
If you see straight roads
look again.
You can’t get there
straight
from anywhere.
A loaded minivan, our borrowed car,
was not designed for this.
Growl, hiss,
grandpa missed
his blue Jaguar.
Sunday, a dry county, no corkscrew.
Instead, grab Sunday brunch
on an Old Town walking tour,
busy until, but closed by, three.
Monday,
a scenic trip north by rail
to Copperhill,
Tennessee.
One hour up,
one hour back
along the Toccoa River
where it continues, Ocoee,
in Tennessee.
Fly fishermen, enjoying the day,
didn’t bother with our cameras
catching them,
our prey.
A two hour stop to eat and shop,
stretch, walk, then hop the state line,
painted blue.
An early spring caught the locals
unprepared for loaded trains.
Souvenirs, however, could be found.
The movie, “Hunger Games,”
now at the show,
inspired our girls to try their hands
at arrows and bows.
The trip back included a practice stop,
anticipating next Saturday’s Easter egg run.
Howell and Tish’s mountain house,
ours for three days,
propped, somehow, on a mountainside,
and reached by a vertical drive,
down,
has up and down decks,
and multiple levels.
We did not get comfortable
until assured
the laws of physics had not been tabled.
A crane-your-neck ceiling
frames a western mountain scene.
Spring dogwoods below
lace white petals through
pine trees
lopped at the top to improve the view.
Windows to the west,
it was hoped by our hosts,
would gather family for fellowship.
Hannah and Alyssa gave it a test.
With their imaginations razor sharp
(but arrows rubber-tipped),
they went into the woods.
The hunted survived I am sure.
Catch-and-release guides these kids in the wild.
Here’s what crossed my mind.
If you leave it in the woods
there are few limits to
the stories you can tell.
CITY HOUSE
Destination two, Huntsville,
Alabama’s house of many porches
and owners who excel,
do hospitality really well.
Take a look
out back
at courtyard, carriage house and porticos,
tools for exceptional hosts,
and out front
at sidewalks and streets
groomed to tout an earlier era,
now filled with walkers greeting
neighbors.
First time visitors,
Misses Hannah and Alyssa,
played with Lovey and Trixie,
French Bulldogs
returning the favor.
Meme and Papa, old dogs, new tricks,
tried to absorb BMW M3s
and James Bond martinis
while straining to recall
bird calls and flower smells
from 40 years ago.
Day two, tour a mountain, the one
that attracted Werner Von Braun’s
rocket scientists from World War II.
Hannah, with Sparky,
the perfect aunt,
and today, really in her Element.
Then to Alabama’s space museum
and Redstone Arsenal.
A mystery of astrophysics --
spaces with multiple centers.
Meme and Papa will testify
to visiting one at Huntsville
and another at Canaveral.
What you do is view space through
a telescope, the Hubble,
then take space shots on a carnival ride
as often as possible
before heading back inside.
With the perfect uncle,
Apache pilot, Brendan, Alyssa flew
a simulator, shooting enemies,
first one, then two, then . . .
whew . . .
we did as much as we could do
until
time to return to Michigan
and cash in
those bragging rights at school.
DRK
4/28/12
6/6/12
Spring break traffic going south,
snowbird traffic coming back.
Roads loaded,
slowdowns,
enough to go around.
Hannah and Alyssa, day two,
ready for spring things to do.
Meme and Papa wrest from the past
MAMMOTH CAVE.
Good for their dad
and, with luck, his kids too.
From the start, evidence
of a generation of improvements.
Take the walk to the entrance,
lengthened, made steeper . . .
and less stable.
A money-saving thing?
No sign of the handrail
I am sure we used before.
There is more.
To enter, descend
steps,
enough to operate several escalators.
I am surprised they missed that cue.
The kids, running ahead, lagging behind,
with iPhone camera and flashlight apps,
played games with prehistoric ghosts
or whatever their imaginations enticed
from our dimly lit environment.
On the way out
our aging limbs were sent back
up the eternal steps and walk,
harboring memories of when an ascent like this
would have been fun.
Disney’s improvement, exits which take you through
gift shops directly in front of you.
The kids -- surprise, surprise --
made great use
of their opportunity to exercise.
The cave trip a win,
reaching back again,
why not . . .
SEE ROCK CITY
where gnomes guide
your garden walk
through Swing Along Bridge
and Fat Man’s Squeeze?
At the top, overlook seven states
and savor ice cream.
Then rock wall climb
and conclude with a stroll
through The Village of Nursery Rhymes,
once a grand finale,
now with today’s technology,
a bit of a curiosity.
But who knows where people like Disney
get their ideas?
Our Tennessee fun
ended down
and up
The Incline,
a railway from long ago
built to shuttle maids and butlers
fro and to
their lofty employ.
Now we tourists,
with nothing better to do,
ferry up and down
or down and up.
You must do two.
MOUNTAIN HOUSE
Destination one,
Blue Ridge, Georgia.
Southern tip, Appalachian Trail.
Check your map.
If you see straight roads
look again.
You can’t get there
straight
from anywhere.
A loaded minivan, our borrowed car,
was not designed for this.
Growl, hiss,
grandpa missed
his blue Jaguar.
Sunday, a dry county, no corkscrew.
Instead, grab Sunday brunch
on an Old Town walking tour,
busy until, but closed by, three.
Monday,
a scenic trip north by rail
to Copperhill,
Tennessee.
One hour up,
one hour back
along the Toccoa River
where it continues, Ocoee,
in Tennessee.
Fly fishermen, enjoying the day,
didn’t bother with our cameras
catching them,
our prey.
A two hour stop to eat and shop,
stretch, walk, then hop the state line,
painted blue.
An early spring caught the locals
unprepared for loaded trains.
Souvenirs, however, could be found.
The movie, “Hunger Games,”
now at the show,
inspired our girls to try their hands
at arrows and bows.
The trip back included a practice stop,
anticipating next Saturday’s Easter egg run.
Howell and Tish’s mountain house,
ours for three days,
propped, somehow, on a mountainside,
and reached by a vertical drive,
down,
has up and down decks,
and multiple levels.
We did not get comfortable
until assured
the laws of physics had not been tabled.
A crane-your-neck ceiling
frames a western mountain scene.
Spring dogwoods below
lace white petals through
pine trees
lopped at the top to improve the view.
Windows to the west,
it was hoped by our hosts,
would gather family for fellowship.
Hannah and Alyssa gave it a test.
With their imaginations razor sharp
(but arrows rubber-tipped),
they went into the woods.
The hunted survived I am sure.
Catch-and-release guides these kids in the wild.
Here’s what crossed my mind.
If you leave it in the woods
there are few limits to
the stories you can tell.
CITY HOUSE
Destination two, Huntsville,
Alabama’s house of many porches
and owners who excel,
do hospitality really well.
Take a look
out back
at courtyard, carriage house and porticos,
tools for exceptional hosts,
and out front
at sidewalks and streets
groomed to tout an earlier era,
now filled with walkers greeting
neighbors.
First time visitors,
Misses Hannah and Alyssa,
played with Lovey and Trixie,
French Bulldogs
returning the favor.
Meme and Papa, old dogs, new tricks,
tried to absorb BMW M3s
and James Bond martinis
while straining to recall
bird calls and flower smells
from 40 years ago.
Day two, tour a mountain, the one
that attracted Werner Von Braun’s
rocket scientists from World War II.
Hannah, with Sparky,
the perfect aunt,
and today, really in her Element.
Then to Alabama’s space museum
and Redstone Arsenal.
A mystery of astrophysics --
spaces with multiple centers.
Meme and Papa will testify
to visiting one at Huntsville
and another at Canaveral.
What you do is view space through
a telescope, the Hubble,
then take space shots on a carnival ride
as often as possible
before heading back inside.
With the perfect uncle,
Apache pilot, Brendan, Alyssa flew
a simulator, shooting enemies,
first one, then two, then . . .
whew . . .
we did as much as we could do
until
time to return to Michigan
and cash in
those bragging rights at school.
DRK
4/28/12
6/6/12
Tuesday, April 24, 2012
UP TO SPEED?
UP TO SPEED?
That driver and his car
Both moving at a crawl
Surely I won't drive that slow
When I get old
I do at times elect to drive less fast
An omen? Premature?
I could better think this through
If this traffic were not itching so to pass
DRK
1/19/15
That driver and his car
Both moving at a crawl
Surely I won't drive that slow
When I get old
I do at times elect to drive less fast
An omen? Premature?
I could better think this through
If this traffic were not itching so to pass
DRK
1/19/15
Sunday, March 25, 2012
NEW FAMILY DAY
NEW FAMILY DAY
Front and center, kids, form a line
with the judge behind his bench.
No need to mention,
official momming, the agenda today.
First, a chance for those with something to say.
Then, Emily, fourteen, has a paper to sign.
Years of uncertainty, now o’er the legal cusp.
Regimes bend and slide,
the new taking wing to soar,
not with a mighty roar
but the clear quiet clap
of Emily’s tap.
Rap, rap.
The gavel’s tap
triggered tears,
then applause
and cheers.
Rap, rap.
Capturing the day,
lovers’ hopes.
Despair is so last year.
Rap, rap.
Olivia swiveled the judge’s chair
while Emily, the eldest, heard
her sentence: years
arranging family dinners,
February twenty-third.
Rap, rap.
Photographers walked,
indeed,stalked,
poking lenses
into unfolding events.
While they nosed
Hannah and Alyssa posed,
squirming their best courtroom grins.
DRK http://dennis-keefe.blogspot.com
3/24/12
Front and center, kids, form a line
with the judge behind his bench.
No need to mention,
official momming, the agenda today.
First, a chance for those with something to say.
Then, Emily, fourteen, has a paper to sign.
Years of uncertainty, now o’er the legal cusp.
Regimes bend and slide,
the new taking wing to soar,
not with a mighty roar
but the clear quiet clap
of Emily’s tap.
Rap, rap.
The gavel’s tap
triggered tears,
then applause
and cheers.
Rap, rap.
Capturing the day,
lovers’ hopes.
Despair is so last year.
Rap, rap.
Olivia swiveled the judge’s chair
while Emily, the eldest, heard
her sentence: years
arranging family dinners,
February twenty-third.
Rap, rap.
Photographers walked,
indeed,stalked,
poking lenses
into unfolding events.
While they nosed
Hannah and Alyssa posed,
squirming their best courtroom grins.
DRK http://dennis-keefe.blogspot.com
3/24/12
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