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Magical Autumn

Dawn slips in as I creep out  into the

crisp autumn morning

Our resident crows have yet to stir

at this hour, no bird greets me.

the air is fresh

cool, disguising what will be a

record fall day as

nineties are forecasted

this is Texas, after all…

my step is lite

sidewalk almost cold on naked feet

no sound at all but a scent of roses

assails the senses.

Don Juan Roses, mingled with tarragon

Oh autumn, stay forever!

tennis ball sized heirloom tomatoes

reborn on

tangled summer vines, join

cucumber flowers atop several tiny, new fruit.

When I turned forty,

several decades past,

I wanted to change my name to

Autumn

I never questioned why…

HELP

hatred
will turn a heart to stone
try as I will
to not let it
in
some days,
days like today,
it does not just permeate
with the stink of inhumanity.
it kicks relentlessly at the chamber
threatening to
destroy everything
to gain entrance
Prayers I have prayed for peace on Earth
my entire life prayers asking God for peace
begging for
solitude to settle
over
this small
insignificant
blue marble in
our galaxy, a tiny speck in the universe…
today, again
I feel my heart
hardening… like the slick
black glass
of a volcanic crater where I once
walked…years ago, in the Arizona
desert.
today, my anger rises
today,
a fellow countryman-
blood spilled in savagery on
another desert sand…
I pray for his peace
and ours.
Sodom and Gomorrah
was the lesson not
learned?

The King

This time You gave me a Mountain

 

It was a scorching Texas summer afternoon and I was in the pool. The water cold,

taking the edge off what might turn into a tan once the sunburn healed…that never happened to me. Music was playing on the stereo on my balcony-three floors up. My bathing suit was orange velour-one piece with high neck with a gold zipper with a heart-shaped pull, extending from the neckline to the waist.

 

It was uncommon to have an afternoon off in August. That was the second busiest season of the year for an apartment manager in a college town. My boys splashed in the shallow end of the pool while I floated on my back in deeper water.

 

The radio disc jockey broke in to the song and in the background Elvis crooned a sad ballad.

“This time Lord You gave me a Mountain”…then the collective breaths in the pool and poolside

cried,” No!”

My chest tightened and a lump formed in my throat as burning tears flooded my eyes.

Just like that the King of Rock and Roll was gone.  

I was twenty-nine years old when he died on the floor of his bathroom that night in Tennessee.

It does not matter how many years have passed since the afternoon in the pool when for a moment my world stopped spinning, I stopped hearing and could not see through tear-filled eyes. I have lived more

years since that day than the number of years I was alive on that day.

 When I listen to the radio now, mostly it is to hear the old songs, the songs that shaped my thoughts on life and love…

I still listen to the King and every now and then I feel the lump start in my throat and the tears in my eyes.

 

Texas Summer

 

I woke up early for a Saturday but

 

not as early

 

as I, as a rule, do.

 

 

 

The weather today:

 

typical Texas late June,

 

90’s with high humidity.

 

This litany of weather will remain

 

more or less unchanged

 

except the final degree of heat,

 

as it ascends to the

 

century mark and beyond…

 

 

 

I slipped out in the early hours, to the garden

 

to gather anything I found

 

worth picking: 

 

a double handful of green bush beans,

 

Serrano and jalapeno peppers, abound-

 

almost thirty orange cherry tomatoes

 

glow like amber jewels to be plucked,

 

six full size tomatoes

 

that will join the

 

plentiful harvest on

 

three wooden shelves

 

in the sunny, western facing

 

window

 

Below that window rests

 

two buckets bearing more…

 

 

 

Today…

 

I make salsa

 

or spaghetti sauce.

 

 

 

The crop was good this Spring.

 

Image

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Photo: Chuck Noll's former players and coaches share their thoughts on the Hall of Fame coach.</p>
<p>READ: <a href=http://stele.rs/SVYMWY&#8221; width=”503″ height=”402″ />

My very wise father, Floyd Harrison, gave me this advice when I was about 16 years old, when weekends cut into dating time, ” find a team and root for that team-win or lose, that will be your team! Learn everything about your team! Men love football and will appreciate a woman who also does.”

I could not pick just one. I picked the The Pittsburgh Steelers – I picked Terry Bradshaw!…but, I also picked the Dallas Cowboys… and it was okay until the times they suited up against each other.

Super Bowls sometimes left me a sodden wreck! I did not want either one to lose-instead of always having one of my teams win. I could scarcely be happy if one of my teams got a first down against the other!

My Daddy… I sorely miss you today and everyday! Happy Father’s Day in Heaven.

I always chose the Steelers. My family was a Cowboys family.

Tragedy strikes

My extended family, a

great grandson’s mom, died last night of

a heroin overdose.

She was twenty one.

 Her son, Caleb, is five

Holli, his sister, is about two.

Will they remember and miss their mom?

Her Mother is a Facebook friend of mine

and she will grieve this loss forever…

I KNOW…

I grieve the loss of my own

eldest child…

who left no children behind

only parents, a brother and so many nieces, nephews, friends,

and others…

I grieve tonight for a Mother

and small children who will

never remember their Mama

except through other’s memories

of her.

R.I P. Hali

May Angels hold you in their arms tonight…

 

Peaceful rest

The sky, still darkened, sent

thunder in waves

thunder rolling

nearer, louder

tucked in for the night

I stretched to see the clock

early still

Yawning, I turn over

to await the promised

rain

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