Footprints.
The path we take leaves footprints that fade with time.
Heavy or light matters not.
Our actions shape how we are remembered.
When no longer seen―only
felt,
Our deeds shout loudest.
Let love and caring be your remembrance,
Before it is too late.
Reading E-mail
I sort through screens of e-mails.
Deleting what I can. Scanning parts of the rest.
The header. Is it addressed to me? The number of people on
the e-mail. The first line.
A compliment. An advertisement. A come-on. A problem.
I have taken to not reading e-mails until noon. Or later.
The rest of the day will be filled with solving small
problems.
Not problems I created, but issues that a president can
address.
Not fix, perhaps, at least answer.
I ask myself, why start the day with problems?
Instead, I start with coffee, a little Danish, and the NYT
games. Puzzles I can solve.
Or, I drive into the hills to photograph wildlife and
nature. Brief respites from the mundane
In between, I might write or edit. Or paint.
Where to start? The page and the canvas are empty and
white.
I don’t remember the last time I read a book. Or took a
walk.
Arthritis and the pain keep me from what I once was.
Or is that an excuse?
Like not reading e-mail.
