I've been trying to post some different things on the weekends when everything is more relaxed--the Muffin story, photos of the northwoods. Here's the first time you'll see me post poetry on Open Salon, something I wrote many years ago for my father after he died.

Have a great weekend, everyone.

daddy did you dream me up 

Daddy did you dream me up

to be a name among the newsprint

underneath the Sunday headlines,

or a phantom of the footlights,

flawless face of current fashion,

shining star?

You were never one to dream at night, and once

it didn't really matter

if I hung your hopes at all.

Let me tend my fires on the mountain.

Let me play with traffic in the street.

Let me wrap your love around me

like a shawl and let me breathe 

the life we found between the centerfolds and Sunday books.

We have strayed away from Sunday looks-- 

And now I trace your image in the faces that I meet.

You're the only Christ I ever knew

but your fear of faith will follow you

and fading fast, I follow, too. 

Window in Newport, September 1990.