today in These titles mean nothing.

I wonder what it will be like to leave.
Leave what? you ask.
Anything. Everything. Something in the middle.
Will I miss eating? Sleeping? Other stuff?

I suppose this is another death entry.
I wonder if I could give up death talk.
Might be another thing to give up in March.
Diet Pepsi, candy and death talk.

There is a certain balance to the three
I sure don’t want more than three
I might add others in future months
When I have a secure foundation.

In the old days, the KOLOR GRAPHICS era
I’d give up sugar and wheat and pop
Those machines you put money in -----
WHY can’t I remember what they’re called?

I’d read on breaks and walk at noon
Once I decided to carry a plastic bag
For purchases and trash
But I never did.

Now I’m open to ideas
Not that I have any
You get the picture
Now is now, not then.

Jim brought home long johns
And I ate a quarter of one
I’m not ashamed or proud
Either, yet, or now.

I was in bed for a while
I put on socks and shoes
I’m ready for a dog and Jim walk
I could take one by myself

Tomorrow is the day we go
For lunch in Winona with the kis
Book store and Marine Art Museum
I am thinking of Deb, wanting to do

Something for her
Bouquet of flowers
Could have today
Will wait now till
Next week, or never
Whichever comes next.

Dog snores by my feet
Jim is outside
Cats are whereever
I am here.

Words don’t add up very fast
When you use four per line
Even if you lengthen them or
Use a lot of short ones.

I’m tired, I was in bed.
But I didn’t sleep or do
Sudoku or Cryptoquote
They were too hard.

I have no plans for supper
We had sausage for lunch
I need to cook eggs more
Than I cook eggs.

I went looking for the WPR sweat shirt
But did not find it. I got a lot of merchandise
last year- a letter came listing it. I threw it away
Maybe I should have kept it - story of my life.

I just half remembered something someone else did.cccc
Beret on Prosebox I think. Something that seemed
both bold and doable, but not memorable, I guess
I’m using up Frey’s commas, the ones left over.

Cellar steps are muddy, from what boots bring in.
I could sweep them but I won’t today. Or until
it’s longer in the future.

Easter is March 31st. I wonder why I care enough
To type it, or to look it up.
Sign of Spring of course, tulips if I had them
Daffodils run wild without care or notice.

I’m almost to 500 words
I can get there but
I doubt I can go farther
In hopes of magic 750.

======================================

I don’t want to go out
I don’t want to take a bath
I don’t want to do anything
There, I said t.

Quiet or out load
Clear or stumbling
Meant or a show that’s worse
Ex-wives, ablaze with kerosene
Smiling, wearing dark shirts

I have my shoes on but I am alone
Sleeping dog does not count much
Let alone to twenty five or six
Will there be someone at the door?

This night like other nights?
I was in bed the other nights
Awake but barefoot an still
He waited for me to be ready

For the trip out the driveway
Dow the road, under the full
Daylight moon. To the stump
Beyond the neighbors’ gate

I wonder if I could ever go so far
As years ago, when I went the loop
One night one way, the other way the next

I was young and brave and energetic
I listened to the radio and told myself jokes
I sang, until I prayed down the big south facing hill.

It took an hour and a half, I did it every day almost
I wrote it on the calendar or in my notebook
More than a hundred miles a month.

It was a great thing to do
It held me and the sky
Together as a unit

I love myself for
Having done it
Every time
I did it.

Now I sit by the fire
Yeats old lady
And I remember.