OK, i have an update - stop holding your breath!

Work has been tough ... ain't it always, everywhere? Lots of overtime. The new computer system is still clear as wet concrete ... the mill is "going Live" the first week of March. Oh joy.

But hey, The Giants won the World Series, so life has to at least headed in the right direction, or so the soothsayers tell me. Anyway, i celebrated the victory, remembering my grandfather who took me to a half dozen games in the 60's, when the Giants were real contenders, but alas, never won the big one.

todays poem .....


FROM A LINE BY HOWARD MOSS

i learned long ago
never to promise the impossible.

it is december here
where roofs call to dark skies
the impracticle dream
of becoming mirrors -
if only for a moment,
to be saint-like,
to glisten
& show the skies
their beauty in dark reflections.

i learned long ago
never to dance in the dark gardens
of prosperity
& expect them to be there tomorrow.

it is december here.
the cafes are all full]of cheap holiday banners
& waiters that could be photographs
serving stale biscuits
to patrons drunk on christmas swill.
i walk the wet pavement
as if a dog
seeking shelter.

i learned long ago
never to believe in ghosts.

it is december here
& i stare into the wet skies
as if a telescope
peering into the great beyond -
wondering what it would take
for our lonely hearts
to be together again -
if only for a night.

i learned long ago
never to expect the impossible.