All Bright, 68 I Can See

When Everything Came Bright

I love others in ways

Not since I was childhood

Intuition, bringing forth

My young beagle dog; I was

Four-years old, dad worked

Hard, oil fields hard on calluses his hands

Never recovered though

At 29, he studied Electronics,

Advance math, physics, chemistry

In Industrial Thechnology

He won me stuffed monkey

At department Christmas party

I returned him this favor

Now that I am 68, gosh

He’s 90 on July 23, 1930, think

Of what he’s seen, depression,

WW 2, Korea, Eisenhower, Nixon and dishonesty

First landing on The Moon

Voyagers 1 and 2 off to interstellar fly by Jupiter, Saturn,

Computers from 16 K to 32 gig unheard of speed advanced.

My old Tandy, my new HP so excellent, this blog will survive.

My life in iPhone 11 will leave me

In carbon based life forms beyond my comprehension

I think of Regan, Obama, Trump

If I have been called a dreamer it is because of dad

Who taught his science as I

Taught my craft, my composition, lit, poetry

We teach together now, we both

Seeing return of Americans to Space,

Remembering I may see landings

On our Moon, voyage to Mars,

Perhaps, we’ll not see dad

Make it to see these things

He wishes me well as we turn away from Covid 19, not certain

Of any death millions infected,

Dad knows, dad knows science

Of it all, I know my craft.

Published by elgwynone

I was a University and community college instructor before retiring. I also worked in fast food restaurants, and retail stores. I am an ordinary man writing for because I want to write and because my education prepared me to write; BA English lit, MA English, EdS higher education, and MFA creative writing, free verse poetry and essays. Blogs are an answer to high-priced self-publishing. Walt Whitman had to self-publish his first 1000 copies of the 1855 edition of Leaves of Grass because in 1855 poetry did not sell. Most poets make a living in other ways than writing. Wallace Stevens was an insurance executive, and TS Eliot was a banker. Many writers teach, and always there have been writers who have written because they needed to express their thoughts and feelings. They wrote not necessarily to make money but to express "the old universal truths of the human heart" according to Faulkner. Here I reach a wider audience I missed than by self-publishing, and I stand a better chance to reach a wider audience for less expense than self-publishing. I self-published my first books, Winter from Spring, and Meditations on Gratitude; poetry and photo books which were easier to self-publish than to seek a not to seek a publisher company. This blog allows me to write for an interested audience because I write poetry and personal essays. I write for a friendly audience and present to you a slice of my writing. Perhaps you will enjoy what you read.

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