The Simple Word Poetry

I am a man. I am an only child to a mother I cherish, a step father I will forever be conflicted over and a father I    never knew, and never cared to. I am a father myself. I am a husband to the only woman I ever knew I wanted to marry the moment I laid eyes on her. I am lazy at times. I am not a "know-it-all," contrary to what some may believe. I am sporadically ambitious. I am confident in myself, yet full of personal doubts. I am happy being alone, but miss my family when thus. I am a really good writer and I know it. I am always looking to improve and learn something new. I am not proud of certain parts of my past. I am still seeking my one do-over in life. I am a fool for ruining my dream thanks to heaping doses of indolence, immaturity and obstinacy. I am happy that I achieved this dream, though. I am still annoyed that I wasted those six and a half years between 1991-1997. I am a dog person and love all of my pups. I am not getting any younger. I am happy and content ...

From the back porch step the late day sun intensely shines through the swaying of tree branches, providing shade from the burning rays. At one time, in this yard, many trees stood tall and proud. Pine predominated and rose high above. They proved excellent for climbing. Alas, they are no more. Victims of time, disease and my younger self's affinity for tree houses. Groups of birds overhead dart from east to west and north to south in a coordinated flurry, apparently in search of insects aloft for a quick meal. They dance a winged ballet, tossing their feathered wings symmetrically with ease and grace. I observe them scattering,  then reappearing, before disappearing from view. The pre-autumn breeze soothes my tired summer sun-drenched and overheated body. I dream of cold winter nights, the scent of fireplaces and chilled breath. I witness the myriad leaves, tired and shriveled, awaiting their destiny. The grass lays below with open arms.

I am now 48 years of age. I am more prone to forgetting things these days, such as attempting to brew iced tea, while multi-tasking. The smell of the burning pot reveals that all of the water has evaporated away. I suddenly realize, to my dismay, that my mind... oh hell, I forget.

I ventured away from home today, which is required to escape the blandness of the shore where I live in order to revel in the majesty of the woods. It’s a treat, these days, to find a slice of nature that is nearly undisturbed by the hands of man and modern machinery. I arrive at the nature preserve and find that I have the 1.5-mile trail almost to myself. A welcome gift on a beautifully-warm weekend summer afternoon. My walking stick guides me along the sandy lanes. Pine trees, as far as the eye can see, tuck me comfortably in. I hear movement below a tree, I turn and watch a chipmunk dart behind me across the trail. Hurried footsteps appear and a woman runs by, breathing heavily as her exercise routine spirits her along. I imagine that much is missed at her pace. Nature passes her by without a stolen glance. I purposely slow down my gait to take it all in. It’s a sublime feeling to be alone in the woods, to be one with the trees, the wind, the animals and the birds. In the distance, ...

Another work day concludes. I head out to my newly-purchased, used 2008 Jeep Grand Cherokee and gleefully open both front windows, letting the spring air circulate through past my face. In an instant, a little winged friend, its particular species I am unfortunately ignorant of, flies in through the open passenger window and perches itself on my phone charging wire. After being briefly startled by this unexpected guest I compose myself and welcome this beautiful bird into my car. We exchange glances, seeming to make eye contact more than once. I then utter a hello, "hey there little buddy,"  caring not that it obviously doesn't understand me. "How are you doing today?" I ask. To this it cocks its tiny head to my left. How lucky I am for this moment. This must be a sign. A good sign I'd say. Thoreau would be amused and enthralled by this. I calmly reach out my right hand, attempting to persuade it to perch itself on my finger, but, alas, he thought the better...