Hence, back to good our friends, the pictures: Here are two from our friend Richard Anthony, who settled down in the Valley like "Frank" from that Tom Waits song. He's a poet by accident. It tumbles out from behind his knees, the way others shake salt.
The pole and I
Sing in time
Rusting scales in
Upward bent.
The pole and I
echo through
all manner of
what is unforgettably true.
The pole and I
Are touching all
the hands and hearts and
years gone pounding by.
With love
Sing in time
Rusting scales in
Upward bent.
The pole and I
echo through
all manner of
what is unforgettably true.
The pole and I
Are touching all
the hands and hearts and
years gone pounding by.
With love
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| Gives such a texture of human yearning. Each nail counts. Someone wanted that cat back and wanted you very much to know about this or that, and wants you to be in their band. Connectivity and claims on passions all shared on a pre-digital upright log. This is how we feel as artists. We bear our telephone poles every day. Also in the urban vein, this pavement duet of smashed and discarded sung to us:   ........ Switcheroo ....... |
We hope you have a spring to savor, as each season on this sacred planet deserves the attention. Our local correspondent, Lettuce Pray: would like to wish you a very realistic and rejoice-filled everyday EARTH DAY every chance we get ...
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| Burrowing Owl youth Choir |
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| Tree hugger |
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| our new belt buckle |
We want to thank our spouse earthman now for bringing us ten years ago now to this neighborhood where we can witness this.
May you have the chance to enjoy other species besides human today!
And send your unexpectedly loved moments please to FAF@homelandinspiration.org.
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