On Poetry:

"Poetry should strike the reader as a wording of his own highest thoughts, and appear almost a remembrance." - John Keats

I firmly believe all of us have poetry that lives within us.  Some of us have to wrestle with ourselves to bring it to light.  I have danced around the firelight of that struggle lately, almost afraid to indulge myself in that fight, but at the same time am compelled to boldly stride into the brighter circle of that very light, again.

It's winged sumac time in north-central Florida. Isn't this a lovely photo of a female indigo bunting peeking over a cascade of sumac fruit clusters?  Hat-tip to my good friend Mike D., who captured this image recently and posted it to his Flickr stream.  He's an impressive photographer, and I recommend you give his site a long look.

Waltzing Matilda

For the past two days I've really enjoyed listening over and over to this beautiful arrangement of the Australian bush song Waltzing Matilda played on a handcrafted parlor guitar made by Rebecca Urlacher.  I'm sure you'll like it too.

This Just In

I'm back to blogging after a several month hiatus during which I've experienced many changes and heartbreaks.  The Clog-wife left and is living with someone else.   I've resurfaced and am up and moving again, and trying to recover the old fire inside me.