Good morning

forgot to shave, but nearly had it together. while the season December seems getting by me. my clothes are clean. my fingers are too. if we had the music i'd dance with you.

Can not find

The familiar road is near here, Dear. 

do not fear i can steer.

Unhooked

now we are two weeks and two days before Christmas. i recall the time when we lived in the holiday spirit, grandparents, the decorations and the tree. from our windows on Main street we saw the whole town go by cold blue nights. street lamps were decorated. always we had snow. familiar carols on the radio and TV. Christ is born in Bethleham every year. again in a manger.

Cold and damp

no surprise this Tuesday, yeah. we've boiled down the day to what is. no one walking out nor drive passing. Just worthy Rod i saw picking up a few sticks at the conclusion of his walk. Forties all week they say. and cast out the U in forties. i asked Meri why and she explained: they do what rhey want. Little is seen most every day.

Best grapes

talking eating plump grapes the way you want to find them. surprise me, honey, where have you been? i'd expect you on a cablecar halfway to the stars overlooking Sanfrancisco Bay anytime, any day. i love you, darling, i really do. here's a poem i wrote just for you. grape sure.

Snow late

we're in the December part of the year and it's dry. i mean snow time is here around, and nothing's found resembling white heavy flakes coming down. not fall or spring, colding like the Dickens. we'll wait to see what happens. the woods will be mystic when white has fallen