Memorial Day poetry. My home is Northern Michigan.
My home is Northern Michigan. I sat by the Cherry trees of Michigan in Northern Michigan, and I remembered a good friend. He was not young; he served in the Army. 25 years,… Continue reading
Tag Archive: Michigan
Dear Michigan. And a beautiful Sammie Jay song.
Dear Michigan. Promises made and promises broken, left me where I started. I left you in Michigan trying to find the place where I could feel alive. I found wars, new cities and… Continue reading
Dear Michigan.
Dear Michigan. Promises made and promises broken, left me where I started. I left you in Michigan trying to find the place where I could feel alive. I found wars, new cities and… Continue reading
Dear December, dear Jenny.
Dear December. The war couldn’t kill me and I returned home in 1992 and I called you.A sweet voice answered the phone and you whispered.Dear Johnnie, please come home to me. I would… Continue reading
Luck and folly.
(April, poetry month. Number two. Luck and folly.) Luck and folly. I told the Wisconsin River. Thank you for this beautiful day. I watched beautiful Kathy dance on the rocks, allowing the river water… Continue reading
Dear Michigan.
Dear Michigan. Promises made and promises broken, left me where I started. I left you in Michigan trying to find the place where I could feel alive. I found wars, new cities and… Continue reading
Waiting for a memory. We get what we deserve.
Waiting for a memory. You came to me in a yesterday memory and you told me Johnnie. Can’t wait no-more. You have too much to love and to embrace. I’m just a heavy… Continue reading
The echoes of yesterday. Dear Jenny.
The echoes of yesterdays. Drinking alone in a Monterey tavern in April,1992. I was trying to hide from a memory, and I saw the saddest face man looking back at me in the… Continue reading
It’s midnight and an amazing Elvis song.
At midnight. I called her at Midnight hour and I told her. Dear Jenny, I remember you and I remember us. I love you still and forget me not. Jenny is crying and… Continue reading
The rising sun, the falling moon.
The rising sun, the falling moon. Prettiest lady, I ever seen, she danced with the Lake Superior waves. She loved to drink and clatter when the Bacchus wine was good. Hand in hand,… Continue reading