Sit-a-while
on swinging porch
where tin-dippers and
sweet water
in cool touches
meet lips
from hand dug wells.

Good morning good people!

Normally, i refrain from getting involved in news on Saturdays, but this morning, i'm conflicted: recalling 'four dead in Ohio,' Watts, Detroit, Chicago, Selma, the Greensboro Woolworths and the turkey plate and special club sandwiches of my youth and ensuing sit-in and the returning caskets of my school mates from jungles unknown and Issac Bevins in bellowing voice--who at summer camp at beautiful Lake Junaluska in the Smokies--told us how he had to mow his lawn twice as much as his white neighbors in his new middle-class home and Human Rights Year, 68 at the UN, the Village clothed in psychedelic rose-gardens, everywhere--the 14 addict chapel congregation on Bleecker sharing all; Prague Spring happening as we sat in Czech Embassy being rushed down and out of the complex through a long tunnel to avoid the growing violent demonstration outside and closing down UNC, twice, marching with Abbie Hoffman on Franklin Street and Nixon's edict to university presidents to close down the protests or forgo federal money and a good man, head of Wilson Library, resigning in protest to the university's response and my first black classmate and the first co-ed dorm and the poets, authors and music driving, educating and leading us and the assassinations, 'the good they die young' and the people joining hands and so many more memories, i cry for Charlottesville and what it means.

...

Morning humor: goes to VP Al Gore saying TV news is a "nature hike through the Book of Revelation."

Morning paintings: posted under fair use commentary rules:

Heart and Soul: Art from Coretta Scott King Award Books

"We Shall Be Released" ~ Brian Washington

Norman Rockwell_the-problem-we-all-live-with

Child Remembrance 6646-002-587772A026

Morning Poem: Ode to Charlottesville

Flower was everything

springing, exploding with sun

sleeping with moon

sustaining

sifting biscuits into civilizations

all knees worshiping, rising

the living, not talking

stalk of being, hidden

until

a child asked why

Petal by petal

raining down

ignored, trampled, fluffed off

blown in wind

chafed

until

a child asked why

Bees knew, butterflies, too

so did the bear and antelope

Mayfly and dew

wet with understanding

and children asked why

River knew

banks, red clay, talc, roots,

truffles hidden from view

especially knew

kneading

secret recipes

of taste and beauty

In toddler's prism

taking shape

ivy waits

wanting, growing

cover

cutting stems

fitting vase,

gas lighting

measuring

blending, shaking, stirring grace

first in place

last to show

beyond the pale of pouring souls

the beat goes on

mums or mummies

drumming nectar's sweet, poison's bitter

nectar sweet, poison bitter

until

morning comes

and

a child asks

which side are you on?

Morning music:

Morning quote:
“He is in a constant state of stage fright, he says, because he never knows what part of his life he is going to have to act in next”
~ Kurt Vonnegut Jr., Slaughterhouse-Five

And a good morning to my dear recently walked-on 84-year-old skiing partner, a Holocaust Survivor, a dancer on skis and the best human being we all had the pleasure of loving.

“A day spent without the sight or sound of beauty, the contemplation of mystery, or the search of truth is a poverty-stricken day; and a succession of such days is fatal to human life.”
~ Lewis Mumford

Have a fulfilling day and weekend everyone!