the ends of days

This is not about anything Biblical: it's about sunsets. I posted a few from this summer on facebook. These look so much more amazing on a monitor than on paper. This one is from July; it is the view from our cottage.

"Centaur"

Yikes! I posted my next poem after taking the summer off.

As September approached, I was beginning to wonder if I might face an insurmountable writer's block, but "Centaur" just flowed out easy as sighs.

I originally started blogging in wordcurrents as an antidote to blockage; it seems to have worked so far. I watched Stranger Than Fiction again last night on TV. It is one of my real favourites, partly because three of my favourite movie actors are in it: Will Ferrell, Emma Thompson, and Maggie Gyllenhaal. Unlike Emma Thompson's character, a writer who is horribly blocked, I seem able to function (for the present, knock would)

I was moved to write "Centaur" after seeing people--mostly macho guys--roar past the cottage on seadoos, going nowhere as quickly, loudly, and annoyingly as pointlessly possible. Of course I feel the same way about snowmobiles, which are just as unathletic, dangerous and macho and pointless and annoying. Heaven help anyone hapless enough to be swimming away from the dock when one of those "personal watercraft" screams recklessly around the corner of the island at lethally high speed.