Buster's Journal: Funny how things happen

Dust of Snow 

by

Robert Frost

"The way a crow shook down on me,
the dust of snow from a Hemlock tree,
has given my heart a change of mood.
And saved some part of a day I had rued."

 

Funny how things happen in the course of our days that change our minds and make us less afraid. How are we to know how a day will go until it's over. I feel like some days are going to be bad and then they're not. 

"I never feel that way. I take each and every day as they come."

Today the day got better when Henry came out to see me on our walk this morning. Up until then it was just another day and Monday, to boot. Then on our walk when we passed by Henry's house and I said hello to him, he came out to be petted. He's a good cat and I think he knows how much I miss Alex. 

"You petted that cat? That thing looks like it has fleas."

Henry does not have a flea on him. He was clean as a whistle today. I petted him and he was purring. Did you notice he began following us?

"He was up to something."

Up to being a good cat and a Loving cat, that's all. Henry may be sweet on Buster. I noticed he had that tail sticking straight up. Today was so much cooler than what the weather has been. Maybe that's why Henry was so frisky. We were all able to breath a little easier. The whole day was that way. It was hot, but there seemed to be a bit more mildness to the heat and there was something of a breeze. 

"The sky got dark and it thundered. I heard a pitter-patter of rain."

The rain where I was was sparce, but the clouds helped cut the heat.  After work had cleared out and I had the place to myself, I walked around outside, enjoying the first Monday of Summer.

Monday of Summer

I’m here, but don’t know for how long.

Maybe I ought to go, but how far?

All the way, I presume to know ends.

To be born again and get it over with.

Thunder rumbles through dark clouds.

Promising a cool rain; seldom it comes.

The thunder is left to echo throughout

My lonely hollow soul empty of promise.

I will never be less lonely in this life.

Never fall in Love again without recalling.

Always knowing what I left behind.

To be a writer without a heart to break.

 

WPCannon

22June2015

Tallahassee,Florida

 

I worte this while I was waiting to go in to work. I had time, so I took out my journal, sat under a shade tree and this is pretty much what came out. If it's crappy, give it time.

"Not crappy at all. It feels like a Monday poem."

It needs work, like every thing, every time, it needs work. Tomorrow I'll see things differently. Maybe some thing will happen, though, to change my mind.

 

 

Buster's Journal

22 June 2015

Tallahassee, Florida