All alone with my dog,
Listening to Phish,
Wondering where the days have gone.
In a few hours, twenty-one of them
Will have passed by in the blink of an eye.
This last one started out under red flag fog
And gave way to about the best day
Of body surfing
Since the 85th and Atlantic days
Back in my youth.

Everyone has gone home,
Everyone who made this time so great.
Each day a test of endurance,
Beach time,
Clean-up time,
Alone time,
Each day better than the last,
Each day a surprise,
Whether it was sandwich pickpocketing seagulls
Or surprise waves with wrestling top rope force.

It’s just me and E, my trusty pit bull,
Who won’t take his eyes off me,
I think he is worried I’ll leave him,
But that’s not the case,
I’m looking for one more short morning run in the sand,
A ceremonial retirement of some old shoes, and
Then he and I will jam to Phish all the way home,
Some two or so hours away, back
To the oppressive heat sans the ocean breeze,
But back with all the people I love.

Running on crushed stone
With the wind hitting a nylon raincoat
While a drizzle lightly falls.

Swimming in seclusion
As bubbles escape tired lungs
Only to be refueled with quick gulps of air.

Hiking with a sniff happy companion
Under the clacking of tall trees
In the silence of a winter day.


Getting older presents new challenges,
Ones that are most likely
The result of being tired,
A kind of bio-physio planned obelescence.

After a week of pushing the boundaries,
A body might need a rest.
From what, though,
Exercise? Eh…
Work? Mos Def…
Limited thinking? Absodamnlutely!

Sleep arrived in bunches last night.
The cellular elves working their restorative magic.
After a morning of chilled vibes and weekend ease
Its back at it, just as hard, smarter,
And without any old man self-limiting thoughts.

Get going.

Enough to keep it going,
That’s about where I’d like to be
On that edge where if things get pushed
A little harder
I might not be able to keep going.

They talk of the faults
Of taking life too easy,
All cozy and comfortable,
They counter with the idea
That it’s all more interesting at the outer limits.

I’d love to know and
That’s up to me,
Pushing ahead with all my might,
Pulling along with an equal effort,
Out there past my limitations.

The days off
Might just be the best.
Work can drag a man down
But thank goodness for Sundays and rest.

So why not go for a long run
Watch a bunch of football
Sneak in a nap or two
Then wait for nightfall.

And work tomorrow.

New is the deal,
New car,
New house,
New friends,
New job,
New is where it’s at!

Better, though,
Is a new way of thinking,
Where simple is best,
Where effort matters,
Where the journey beats the stuff.
That’s a true new deal.

art background brick brick texture
Photo by Pixabay on

Funny how a day goes,
This one where I ran while
Thinking of taking the soul
Of the wall just past
The end of my treadmill.
I stared into the yellow stripe
Calling myself all sorts of names
When the running got tough,
Then, through some act of the endurance gods
I got a second wind,
Briefly thinking I could see deeper into the yellow,
Beyond what the cinder block was forming, far
Into that wall’s soul.
That’s when I took it, Goggins style, made it my own
And finished the run.

That moment of intensity
Is the joke right now.
I just finished finding my soul,
Sitting on my knees,
Eyes closed, and
Being open to whatever.
Thoughts ran across my mental theater
Staying just as long as it took
To acknowledge their presence.
The bios tell me my heart rate was low,
My watch tells me fifteen minutes passed,
My groove tells me I took good care of my soul
As the keys aren’t getting banged
And the words are massaging my simple quest with peace.
Funny how a day goes…