Stain-glass Eyes

Wish I Could Include the Fragrance With This Photo Spring was in the streets today.  All the senses were being explored.  I can't say anyone announced it was "Spring Day", but it was being unofficially celebrated.  It made it a stronger participation without being official.  Everyone I saw had their own way of declaring their hold onto the new season.  Some with their clothes, some with their activities, some just by being outside and not inside their four walls, looking out. Holding Hands and New Plant Outside Cafes, Socially Celebrating Spring     Safely Crossing Streets of Ann Arbor I sit in Mighty Good Coffee.  My pussy willows, I purchased at the Farmer's Market, sitting on the red table, and a good, strong cup of coffee. Young Customer at Mighty Good Sporting Color I feel bad for the students studying by the window.  They look out now and

Painting on Ugly Meter Box When I was listening to the radio, I heard a young woman talk about putting up posters and visuals to inspire people.  She chooses depressing, run-down, and colorless areas.  Living areas where many people see nothing to spark a smile or a positive thought.   At first I thought, "How does a young woman come up with something like that to have as her goal and contribution to society?"  It seemed outlandish for someone to devote their time to something with so little feedback.  How will she know if anyone is affected in any way?  How will she decide where, what and how to place these posters? Peace Sign With Lights, Behind Large Electrical Wires  Neighborhood "Hop-Scotch" on Sidewalk (Gave me Warm Memories) As I look around, while I walk,  I've developed a different perspective when noticing things.  The small blue, purple, yellow flowers coming up in yards.  Daffodils surrounding the pond by the mus

I wrote about "Then" and "Now" So, I added a few pictures I took of the past. Then     Cro-Jo's Old Pictures of St. Ignace                                                        Then St. Ignace Phone Across From Old Police Post Jukebox in Bentley's St. Ignace Old Ford Truck-Manistique "Hello, Operator?"                                                      "If you want the billing department, dial one." "What number, please?"                                             "Please hold the line,                                                                                      the first available agent will be...." "Could you check the oil, too?"                                  "I wonder where the slot is for my card?" "Yes, Ma'am, would you pop the lid?"                       "Why do they want

April is Poetry Month.  I enjoy poetry and decided my writing for this post would be a poem.  April isn't over yet.  I hope to add a few more poems before the month is over.  MMM My eyes feel hollow with craving. I need colors, shapes, lines. Blobs, textures, depth. I feel my eyes flit from side to side, searching for works of art. Beginning to half-open as they half-shut, they become numb in their search. Blinded by the unspectacular, they lose sensitivity. Grey cement, red brown brick. Blackish Mulch, pieces of splintered wood.  Dirty from a winter under snow. Empty beer bottle, ripped Kroger flier. One black glove, coated with salt and dirt. Walking into an art exhibit, I find my eyes tensely opening. "Your eyes will feast, rest and be dazzled," I hear myself justify this detour from the streets. Walking and turning, I lift my cup to be filled. I tip my head to get lost in the details of the blue-green sky. I

Winter Isolation  Ice Starting to Build Up on Lake Huron Ferry Boat in the Distance I use to wonder how the natives of Mackinac Island cope from complete isolation in the winter, to complete chaos and invasion of people in the summer.   At least, living in St. Ignace, a person could travel to a different town or city.  But, living on Mackinac Island, once the ice freezes over, you're stuck until the ferry boats start to cross again.  Unless you have a snowmobile to cross the "ice-bridge", or are brave and have strength enough to cross-country ski the trip. "Stuck" has a negative connotation to it, I know.  What a person does with their isolation can make a difference in the "stuck" department.  Drinking the death of your liver, developing an art or skill, writing a novel, preparing for a spring triathlon, raising a young family, reading all the trilogies you haven't started, mastering an instru