L'aura del Campo

Summer: 17 Asma (September 5)

TREASURE OF THE DAY

If I write for what I feel,
It matters not what you may see.
But if its stars I’m after,
Then shame on the poet in me.

I do the same when I review,
And tell others what is wrong,
While I myself, sing away,
To the music of my own song.

Let’s read the words of others,
Our own frailties in mind,
And not get too darn critical,
Just remember to be kind.

from: "Invalid Item"   [] by A Guest Visitor


2005-09-05
afternoon, 88 degrees. In Omaha, NE it's 74.

Raining in Omaha. Not here. The Ice Cream Social is going well. Got me a sugar cone with chocolate.

At Aimee's, the owner dropped a plate (probably juggled by someone. He wanted me to clarify.). It broke all over the green carpet. Looked like a still life in orange, and yellow, red and white. Of course, I wrote a poem! The provisional title is: "The salad of Gary B." Gotta have humor.

I would write more if I could hang out downtown, in the parks or in coffeehouses instead of the library. But, I don't have a laptop.

OVERHEARD

"They let you stomp in the bucket" Cary re vineyard in Herman, MO.
"If I'm not hungover, it's time to do homework," re Sunday evenings.

SENSED YESTERDAY:

Red '62 Studebaker Lark; peach ice cream with chocolate syrup; Finn having a fit (He's 2); huge spider web in a downtown planter; sound of kicking plastic; a shy licker named Phoebe.