After Breakfast

Grandpa, Tabby and I had a good breakfast. Tabby and I cleared the table, then washed the dishes. While doing that, Tabby asked me:

“Would you like to play cribbage after this, Mark?”

I said, “Sure, that sounds like fun. How about you, Grandpa?” I asked, looking back to him in his chair at the table.

“No, thanks, kids. I’ve got something I’m working on in my workshop. You all have fun. Don’t worry about me,” he said. At that, Grandpa stood up and walked across the kitchen to the door to his workshop. “Thanks for doin’ the dishes,” he said, with a smile, then he entered his workshop and closed the door behind him.

Tabby and I had seen Grandpa working on a set of shelves for Tabby’s room, painted blue, her favorite color. Grandpa had told me they were for Tabby, and Tabby figured as much. “They’ll be neat when they’re finished, don’t you think so, Mark?”

“Yep, they will. Everything Grandpa makes is neat,” I said.

“Yeah, he’s a good ol’ Grandpa,” she said.

We sat down at the table, playing cards for a while. “You can deal,” I said.

“Okay, thanks,” Tabby said. She shuffled the cards, and dealt them out. We played a few hands, alternating the deal with each hand.

“What are you going to do, this afternoon?” Tabby asked.

“I’m going to read a book,” I said.

“That sounds like a good idea,“ Tabby said. “Maybe, I will, too!”

We played out the rest of our card game. Tabby won, as usual.

“You gonna’ go read your book now, Mark?” She said.

“Yep.” And I walked down the hall and then up the stairs to my bedroom. My dog, Old Hank, was already in my room, laying on the bed, with the sun shining on him through the window.

“Hey, Hank. Move over a bit.” I laid down on my bed, as Old Hank adjusted. I probably won’t last long, I thought to myself. I’m full. I reached out to grab the book, on the window sill, but didn’t even start reading, before I fell asleep.

Grandpa’s House

I was walking in the woods behind my grandpa’s house one fall day. I had been wondering where my little sister had wandered to. Any chance to get outside, and she was up for it. Instead of my sister, though, I came upon two boys sitting on the ground in a small dirt clearing. They were playing a dice game. They heard my steps, shuffling in the fallen leaves, and looked up. It was Ben and Albert, two young friends of ours.

“Hey, guys,” I said.

“Hey, Mark,” they both said together.

“Have you seen my sister anywhere?” I said.

The taller one, Albert, scratched his head. “I passed by her, sittin’ on a log by the pond, fishin’.”

“Sounds like my sister,” I said.

“Yep,” said Ben. “That Tabitha’s the only girl I know who goes fishin’,” he said, with a smile.

“By herself, anyway,” I said. “Thanks, y’all. Have fun.”

“Okay,” said Albert.

“Bye,” said Ben.

I hopped the fence back into my grandpa’s yard, crossed the back yard, went through the gate, through the front yard, turned left and walked down the street, then onto a dirt path that led to the pond. Albert lived near the pond, on the other side. Ben lived back on the other side of my grandpa’s house. Albert would have passed the pond on his way over to Ben’s house. As I came out of the woods, I looked across the pond, and there she was, sitting on a log, with a fishing pole in her hands.

“Hey, Mark,” she said, smiling, and she waved.

“Hey, Tabby. Grandpa’s got breakfast ready. Pancakes and bacon.”

“Okay,” she said. “I’m coming.” Then she reeled in her hook, still fit with a half a worm on it. “The fish aren’t bitin’ much, anyway.”

By that time, I walked around the pond and stood by Tabitha. I looked down at a bucket of water by her right tennis shoe and saw a couple of brim swimming in it. “Those two look good,” I said.

“Yeah, caught those a while ago. Nothin’ since.”

“Okay, c’mon. Get your fish.”

She reached down and picked up her bucket by the handle, and as I held out my hand, she reached out and grabbed it. “Thanks for coming to get me, Mark,” she said, smiling.

“I knew you wouldn’t have wanted to miss grandpa’s pancakes,” I said.

“Yep, you’re right,” she said.

When we both got back to grandpa’s house, grandpa was waiting for us at the door. “Breakfast is gettin’ cold, you two.”

“Sorry, grandpa,” we both said.

“Watcha got in the bucket, Tabby?” He said.

“Couple of brim, grandpa,” said Tabitha.

“Well, we’ll have to get them ready to cook for lunch!” He said, patting us on the backs towards the breakfast table. “After breakfast, that is!”

In

Chime bluff ran on lease bean tough lose ain’t apple battle rewind taste brace juice grease knees poison politics halo referred green ate up towards kite war type plot borough lite sled vase brave youth huge bought plow honey tree blame freedom gluttonous dead creases flute Japanese ghastly referee angel belief tangle range seek tube tinge jot hail regal yell beat in

Substance

Alone in need of something real substance lasting for ever and ever God hears my prayer he reaches out I reach out we both come together on a plain we’re in the same dimension for a short moment can it last yes and no I don’t see him I don’t feel him I don’t smell him I can’t touch him I don’t taste him I don’t hear him I can I do same thing in that bread and wine yeah you’ve got it right there!

Flying

Walking outside cascading down a waterfall jumping through hoops running at full speed then tumbling over in a somersault. Mooching for a bite slobbering a drink of water cooped up in a chicken house don’t know what happiness is after all. Taking flying lessons from a vice president oh funny how you roll with it just want to fly forget all the paperwork and responsibility I just want to blast off!

Me

Dry live quack mirror block race sweet delight calibration sweltering alleviate smarter weave beep lovers maneuver swarm quickly beat van eel bait smack jock realm rear bravo endear ill on indicate feet swiveled years bartered veal taken snake potbelly afternoon cut sweat cook ending bowling beat whelp heal rage variety me

Loving

My love started small,

With my family.

My mind learned,

But my heart was afraid

To venture out

Into the unknown.

To trust, to care,

To ask, to share—

There is risk in love.

One can always be rejected.

Sometimes,

One is misunderstood.

Sometimes,

It is a game,

For some people.

And for some,

It’s for high stakes,

From reputation,

To finances,

To children.

Broken love

Can be very costly

To all sides.

But love is worth

All the loss

That can follow it.

As a wise person said,

“Better to have loved, and lost,

Than never to have loved at all.”

Summer Stroll

Meander along

The old country path

Between the oaks,

Wearing Spanish moss in their hair.

The breeze stirs up

The dusty pollen

You give a sneeze,

As you gaze at the trees.

Life bubbles out

Of every crevice.

Ants march along

On a mission.

Gnats swarm around

Your sweaty forehead.

Moths and butterflies

Dance above the shrubs.

Wildflowers decorate

The in-between.

I whistle a humble tune,

And kick a few pebbles

Down the path.

The sun peeks through the trees,

But the shade covers us.

Perhaps, we should head back,

And have a glass of sweet tea.

Jungle Rhythm

Tick, tock.

I close my eyes, and sway

To the gentle rhythm

Of drums in the distance,

As the clocks tick

And keep the beat.

My heart beats—

Fascinating rhythm!

Do you feel the breeze

Blowing through the trees,

Humming to a tune,

Catching my hand

As it sways back and forth

Above the tall grass,

Swaying in the breeze?

I ask you, please?

Come with me, and jump

From tree to tree!