The Fourth of July

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The Fourth of July

Did you see the fireworks?
No…? Neither did I…
But lots of lights and colors
Filled the evening

I sometimes wonder if I will ever see them again,

The purple and gold ones
Were my favorite, cascading in the shape of an umbrella,
It seems like a long time ago now,
I should really know how
To let it all go
I reckon so,

Like smoke from a candle
Like morning fog on the first tee,
To neon lights at bar time,
To empty windows that stare
Back at me,

Let it all go,

Still it’s the whispers in the dark
I will miss the most,
Gone quietly from here
As if they were ghosts,

Still somewhere there are fireworks
That lights the evening sky,
Lovers somewhere are entangled
in passion filled sighs,

Whispers do not hold their desires
As ghosts do not haunt their souls
A freedom worth fighting for,

The fireworks may come again
Purple and golds cascading in the mid summer’s
evening sky…


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The Merrimac Ferry

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The Merrimac Ferry

Time is on my side
Or at least it is today,
So that’s why I’m here
While I try to find my way,

I have a country song on my mind,
As I shut the engine down,
The ice cream shop is to my left
Here on the edge of town,

The ferry has a name
But right now I don’t remember,
And they will put her to bed
When the snow flies in early November,

Those are not my concerns today
Not here in early summer,
I sometimes think summer is like the ferry
They both come and go,
And in between we wait,

Here she comes now, steady as she goes
Like a draw bridge the gates come open,
Where once they were closed,
I start the engine and wait my turn,

“ Cause you and Tequila make me crazy
Run like poison in my blood
One more night could kill me, baby
One is one too many, one more is never enough” kc

Some days I just wish the ride
Was a little longer…


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My America

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My America…

I would like to share my America with you
One tree at a time, one flower and then two,
And then thousands growing free in the meadows,
Highways and downtowns
In the afternoon shadows,
Shopping carts
And open hearts,
The wind on the bluffs
And the lakes below
And snow,
Mailboxes and waterfalls and baseball,
With diamonds made of sand
That share more dreams than realities,
In the faces of tomorrow,
This is my America,
One tree at a time,
Corn growing in straight lines
Mountains and canyons
And eagles flying free
Where ever I go, you come with me,
Planes and trains
And the rusted out automobiles,
Smiles from beautiful strangers
On busy streets
No surrender
No retreat,
On the strip, the neon lights shine bright
Welcoming eventful nights,
And there are some stars
Living up on the hill,
This is my America
Born on the Fourth of July
And kept in my back pocket
Sunrise to sunset, under my blue skies,
On lease, never owned
But I’m giving it to you
One tree, one flower then two,
Come share my America…


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Under the Milky Way Tonight

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Under the Milky Way Tonight…

My world has gotten a little strange,
Turned around
(Sounds like a song)
Midnights come and go
With little notice,
As sunsets fair
No better,
Time takes a little of me each day
Until it will be my time to pray,
Even though no one
Is listening

I don’t see my reflection in your eyes
Not anymore,
You have vanished,
As if you were a ghost
Still you haunt my soul
On cold days,

Memories fade as I go numb,
Not knowing which one will go next,
Will it be your smile from across the room ?
Or the sound of you breathing
While next to me ?

Stars hold their own
Until they can’t,
Falling in a clear summer sky
In June,
If I had one wish
Maybe I would just give it
To you…


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No Country for Old Men


No Country for Old Men

Where is my country?
Where are my Yellowstone’s, my Rockies, and my Tetons?
All my adventures have left me here and alone,

Where is my phone call that asks…”how was your day? “
Where are my smiles and laughter?
Where is the light, left on for me to find my way?

Where is my country?
Where are my Grand Canyon, my Yosemite, and my Pictured Rocks?

Where are my satin sheets pulled back inviting my rest?
Where are my candles burning quietly in the midnight?
Allowing the memory of your warm body next to mind,
Where are my Sunday mornings tangled in a passionate bliss?
Where are my quiet times and your everlasting kiss?

Where is my country?
Where are my Great Smokey Mountains, where are my Ozarks, my Road to the Sun?

Where are my sunsets, my summer rains, and my thunderstorms?
Where are my songs, my words, my poems?
Where is my ice tea on the front porch after mowing the lawn?
Where is the smell of fresh baked cookies from the kitchen?
Where are my Saturday afternoon naps and dinner on the town?
Where are my black dress and black stockings and black heels?

Where is my country?
Where are my Devil’s Lake, my Copper Falls, my Capitol City Bike trail?

Where is the light left on for me at the end of the day?

Where is… my country?


Wrecking Ball


Wrecking Ball…

She never once looked back
I give her credit for that,
It must have been her German blood,

She wore her hair up more than she did down
And crossing the smallest of streams
Was a big adventure,
Claiming I was half mountain goat
Waiting for her to catch up
I think I know now
which half,

Time gives us perspective,
As I did not turn to run after her,
As I did nothing at all
As the fire became small,
And died on a Wednesday afternoon,

It is difficult to understand how we share our lives,
How we give for a while and then stop,
How we build walls and take them down
And build them back up again,
As if inside were gold,

It’s when the walls get so high
that we can no longer see the sun,
When the shadows have become
just a shadow of one,
Then gold may as well be lead,
As the living may as well be
the dead…



All of This

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All of This…

When I was a younger man
Before college, careers and kids
And all of this,
I made my living by shagging flies
And what of bonuses you might ask?
I got those too… by hitting
Line drives,

My insurance plans were simply an ounce of prevention,
Loss control maybe, more likely innovation
Simply hot stuff on a tired arm
An ace bandage wrap on a battered thigh,
I remember the day I got hot stuff
In my eye,

Pension plans were available also, as the ROI was difficult to measure, cashed out in the form of memories and a few broken bats now cured with electrical tape,

I wasn’t a superstar; you won’t find my name in the record books,
Still this is the game I miss,
But that was when I was a younger man
Before college, careers and kids
And all of this…

Fall of 1984
Updated today: 05-18-14
(Believe me my friends, it goes faster than you think…don’t blink)

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