Studio8 - Uniting the Arts

Appalachian Trail
drizzle pitter patter
boots on patina-ed rocks
grey-green everywhere
dead leaves of burnt sienna
the raindrop music not unlike
the Christmas chorale performance
last night in a Frederick church

moss and mushrooms
peak out from the fallen leaves
puddles and rivulets this December day
the mountain top sky thick as wool
beauty nevertheless abounded
like a really great black and white film
from long ago, the matinee idols
bare treed actors, actresses with foggy cloaks

had some grub in town on Sunday
Wireman's old haunts, Cafe Nola...Jo Jo's
I asked a waitress about Mark, and she said
haven't seen him in awhile, hope he's OK
the food was good, a nice crowd of people
eating, drinking, watching football
our raven-haired server kept the dark anejo flowing
Ravens playing the Buffalo Bills

back to Gathland State Park
no one around
quite a contrast
no cheering, clanking dishes, silverware
though the atmosphere was striated silver
raindrops pounding my orange poncho
smile on a blonde girl's face the only colors
footsteps on a trail with no conversation
1400 feet atop South Mountain

Bliss

Back in the hood - does us all good
hitching a ride on your homage to wireman

moss & mushrooms
fallen leaves
puddles, rivulets...
...
memories of long ago & far away...
san jose california
photonics trade show
and the day jim & I played hookie
to see the redwoods...
midweek...
a gray day
damp and cool
no one about but us
and majestic giants
to whom we were but small beetles
like those
that crawl about the leaves at our feet...
the soft patter of rain...
our voices -
- hushed -
low and awed
lest we rouse the forest's ire
with our sacrilege...
we saved our ribald laughter
for the car trip back to the hotel...