“The presence of your absence bothers me,” begins an old Pierce Pettis song. I’ve sung the lyric both out loud and in my head for several days now as I go deeper into Ginger’s two week pilgrimage to Israel and Palestine that left me here to tend to Schnauzers and in-laws in Durham. The quotidian…
I know. I haven’t posted in a while. OK, almost a month. I decided I would sing my way back in — that is, I would sing along. The tone for this collection was set by Eric Folkerth, who pointed me to Eric Schwartz. Listen and enjoy the soulfulness. The next man that came to…
for the beauty of the parkto not-so-wild geesecongregating in the grassthe walkers and joggers intent on not making eye contactflanked by smiling dogsthe cool summer airof this mile-high morningmakes my grateful hymn of praise for sidewalksthat know my namefor eyes that smile back andthe love which from our birthremembers we are allwalking home Peace,Milton
Once upon a time, a guitar was a guitar. No qualifiers were needed. Then along came rock and roll and amplification and we needed more than one word to describe the stringed instrument because there was more than one kind. Thus, what had always been a guitar became an acoustic guitar to set it apart…
the corn is growing(all eight plants)as are the squash sweet potatoes cinnamon basil bee balm figs and echinaceatomatoes gooseberriespeppers and eggplant(aubergine is a better name)along with muscadinespeaches and asian pearsI’m circling the gardenalong with schnauzersbutterflies and beesaware that walkingaround in my gardenis like walking aroundthe inside of my heart Peace,Milton
Sunday evening I sat down to dinner with friends from Durham after I had made my last run to the airport of the day to drop off folks heading home from the Wild Goose Festival, which was held at Shakori Hills near Durham. Saturday was my friend Terry’s birthday and I wanted to eat dinner…
One of my morning rituals is to see what musicians have birthdays. Today marks the birth of Kris Kristofferson (along with Don Henley and Cyndi Lauper). Seeing Kristofferson’s name reminded me of one of my favorite songs that feels like a good soundtrack for today, so I thought I would pass it along. am I…
When I was a student at Baylor, most any afternoon after class I made a stop at Baylor Records, a small independent record store barely a block off campus. It was a small rectangle of a room decorated with the obligatory record and concert posters and lined with wooden bins filled with albums separated by…
these are the days of miracle and wonderthis is the long distance call . . .— Paul Simon, “The Boy in the Bubble” I know I’ve been away . . .I have seen many thingswalking in our neighborhoodin conversations at churchand around tables at the pubI even have stories to tell –but tonight I write…
If you haven’t already heard, consider this your invitation. The inaugural Wild Goose Festival is happening at Shakori Hills camp ground, not far from where I live here in Durham, North Carolina. Here is how the folks putting on the festival describe it: The Wild Goose is a Celtic metaphor for the Holy Spirit. We…