Thoughts on a lovely college reunion of friends on beautiful Lake Charlotte in Buffalo, Minnesota. 
​
A much-needed respite,
four years in the making
a precious weekend away 
Where heavy hearts were lifted
By a reunion of dear old friends.  
 
In an unexpected return
to a bubble of solace,  
A place where even as the years pass,
So easily we boomerang back to
that easy "pick-up-where-we-left-off” effortless banter.
Reminiscing over vodka seltzers
and glasses of Rose on a quiet candlelit screened porch
we safely shared under a starry Minnesota night's sky,
the state of our unions,
our families, both human (and canine),
of competing age-related ailments and
embarrassing bathroom calamities,  
worries over politics and crepey skin,
tearful recollections of parental losses
and how unwittingly we’ve managed
to become in so many ways
just like them.  
 
And in the morning, a new game learned
yet not nearly mastered.
80s tunes in the distance,
a young buck in mirrored sunglasses with pock marked skin
Taught some old broads a few new tricks.
On a pickleball court, 
the latest fad
Antics and laughter ensued,
a sweaty back smile
air guitars jamming on rackets
And soon we became
us again.
 
With every familiar giggle, snort and high five
Reminders of what will never change
and what matter most
What the stretch of time and age
​and life's tribulations can never steal
Four friends
A golden group
Cradled in the calming, warm afternoon waters of Lake Charlotte
We float on,
In gratitude
Of friendships divine
And spirits renewed.

Thoughts in response to the Highland Park mass shooting on July 4th, 2022, and on mass shootings in general. 

The morning after
He ascended the ladder
Took aim
And pulled the trigger of his own destiny,

We focused on the guns
The guns
And the guns
Again.

Others criticized the madman’s use of
SSRI’s,
The Pills used to curb the anxiety,
Qualm the urge to kill
To destroy.

For a young white man who had every privilege
Yet didn’t work
Didn’t interact
Rapped into the digital vortex
Wanting to be heard
Wanting to matter to someone,
anyone
Yet who was really listening?

A follow, a like, a click
Is no substitute for human interaction.
Big Tech, Big Pharma, Big nothing but keeping us
Sick, disengaged, unfulfilled
An artificial substitute for what all humans really need
To be seen, heard, valued,
 Loved.

It’s a bitter pill to swallow
To know this scene will play out again
And again
Is there no end, no bottom, no bloody red line?
Or are these dark forces of hate, inaction and deceit beckoning us
Enticing us until we all pick up arms and turn on each other?

The spraying of bullets
Is a coward’s lazy way to make a problem disappear
But the harder road to take would be to
Unplug from it all.
To re-engage in our humanity
Re-establish our rights to protect our precious minds.
To be at peace with simple pleasures unseen,
Enjoy human to human connection without the barrier
Of a screen
An audience
The constant drone of a digital Judge and Jury
Telling us who to fear, who to hate
even ourselves. 

And in the end
maybe the ultimate destruction
Will be everything we think we are afraid of losing-
Our country,
our families, our faith, our wealth,
Our existence.

When the last shot is fired,
And the last pill swallowed
When it all goes black
Will our last moment of consciousness ponder
Whether the guns, the likes, the fame, the money, the retribution-

Was that the life, liberty and pursuit of happiness we were promised? 

Thoughts on our current state of political discourse in the United States. 
​
When the dust settles,
And the history books are written.  
If those that remain,
can look back through a clearer lens
where will they see you stood
at this moment?
 
Were you the one praying for change,
seeking vengeance
 or hoping for justice?

Was it yourself or for all,
For the earth or for your children
For the country or
was it only for those who shared
your world view,
your faith
or the color of your skin?
Were your convictions rooted in righteousness,
keeping the peace,
in passive indifference
or in making another suffer?
 
Where were you
When the hungry needed fed,
 the sick needed healing,
When the other needed your compassion?

Were you the one we see with the bullhorn-
Shouting yet not hearing,
Believing yet not seeing?
Or were you the one quiet and unseen,
delivering meals,
Lending a kind hand,
Trying to steady the storms around you.
 
Where were you when it all came apart,
When the flag fell
and the crosses burned,
when the fraying fragments of our freedoms
lay tattered,
trampled,
and desecrated on the steps of state capitols
who fueled the great fire of our demise.
Were you busy ripping the stitches,
Letting the edges burn with the embers of your anger?
Or were you the one frantically trying to calm the flames,
Patch the tears and
reinforce the seams
Of our once great democracy?
 
Ask yourself now,
Where were you?