Stability Is Not An Option
The first stanza of my 1987 poem, CHANGES, is: Stability Never an option. Possibilities the name of the game.
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The Messenger
The Messenger His name was David. He was a distinguished looking man in his forties, always well dressed with a regal bearing in spite of his disability. He was likely taller than me but I would never know that. For that first time I met him he was confined to an electric wheelchair. I never…
Bubbly Toes
Bubbly Toes She had shockingly white, Nordic blond hair. It wrapped around a rounded face graced with protruding cheek bones, under glacial blue eyes, and set off with a ski jump nose. Her name as Ingrid and she was my new Recreation Therapist. Ingrid had a effervesent, nothing-got-her-down personality that immediately reminded me of the…
C.A.R. – Looking For A Book
Looking For A Book “Act like your looking for a book but you’re not sure what to buy,” I said. Bonnie actually got up from her chair. Stood a few feet away. And, approached me like I was sitting in my chair at the cash desk in the bookstore. She said, “Can you help me?”…
Shrink Wrap, Too
Shrink Wrap, Too That first session with Bonnie consisted of the usual questions. How long have you been crazy? Seriously, though. Questions about my psychological history. My car ‘accident’. My relationships. The usual. After fifty five minutes Bonnie said, “We need to wrap this up. Let’s schedule the next session in two weeks. Same time?”…
