Each morning,
checking the thermometer.
After a rain,
squinting at the gauge.
Recording faithfully
in his journal
at the top
of every page.
Every day,
studying the clouds,
drifting swiftly
through his old age.
© 2013 Richard Havenga
Weaving words of grace and gratitude through the fabric of my photography, I wish to share the everyday miracles of God's creation. Writing with a blend of curiosity, discovery, and spirituality, I invite the reader-viewer along a trail of words and images; thoughtfully selected and graciously given.
FN, what a shot! Congratulations. I have been soooo disappointed at myself lately. Sunday night, I was at Holland beach and took dozens of shots at the glorious sunset. When I looked at them, they were all blurry!
ReplyDeleteSG:
ReplyDeleteThank you.
Try using a tripod or a monopod for better results. Adjust your ISO as the light is fading.
FN
Dad, this poem describes you accurately, except for the "old age" part. That line needs some editing! ; ) I don't believe I will think of you as "old" until you're 87 or so. I can still see the young boy inside you every time you smile.
ReplyDeleteLove you!
Sarah
Sarah:
ReplyDeleteYou make me smile with your loving comments. Your ten-day visit with us made me feel young again, because of your youthful, optimistic outlook on life.
I only used old age in this poem because it rhymed with gauge and page. I actually feel 45, not 65. I felt like a boy as I was chasing those fireflies with my insect net the other night.
Thanks again for your loyal support.
Love,
Dad