today's moon; will there be anyone not taking up his pen? Onitsura
A close friend of mine grew up in Minnesota in a small town on a dairy farm. I'm always prodding her for descriptions. So many people, when they move to LA, want to leave their past behind. To me Peoria is exotic as is your life and the changes happening around you.
exotic . . . not confusing me with the Chippendales?
enjoyed this, bandit. it reminded me of my father and his boyhood stories of growing up in vermont. now at 90, he lives on the eastern shore near a salt marsh. i wrote this haiku about him . . .the old new englander brightens with the talk of lilacs
nothing could be less exotic then the Chippendales
Nice open-ended haiku harking back. That's exactly what a haiku should do: hark! It seems that St. Paul has both sabi (rust) and Sabi (Basho's ideal of joyful acceptance of the beauty in loneliness of passing things). If you know what I mean?! Thanks, Bandit.
You know what draws me to this? Among other things, I hear a voice. Really. I hear someone speaking the words.
altadenahiker's right. Bandit, you should be in radio, telling stories, reading poems...
You should read Karin's blog, (AltadenaHiker) Tito. A great influence . . . and she has the experience to back it up.
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