Father never cries
Father never cries (Written in November 1990) My father never cries, my father rarely smiled, my father eyes turned darker, because of life burden. His body and heart gave-up in the battle of… Continue reading
Father never cries (Written in November 1990) My father never cries, my father rarely smiled, my father eyes turned darker, because of life burden. His body and heart gave-up in the battle of… Continue reading
The serene stillness Busy life, work and no play Johnnie. He learn life is more than seeking money. In the serene stillness, he remember his daughter laughter, her love of butterflies. He remember… Continue reading
I hope I make it till the Spring. A Poem by Coyote Poetry A old poem written in 1989. I learn I wasn’t important. I learn to be kind to friends and family.… Continue reading
The quiet world The world is too quiet. Today the birds were singing and the dandelions were everywhere. I took the grandsons to my yard, they hit some baseballs and we played with… Continue reading
More than a name on the wall (Freedom isn’t free. Some men and women, gave everything away for freedom.) I became the old soldier in the tavern now. Drinking with the ghosts of… Continue reading
My father’s song (My father passed Jack Isaacs on 29 January. Was 93 years old and he was tough as nails.) Greatest man I ever known. He told me often. “Life… Continue reading
The strong and the blessed Today I am a old man. I lived in many places and I have lived many lives. I was a businessman, I was a soldier and I was… Continue reading
The last time I saw your face, my kind friend. I remember. When we are blessed with youth and vinegar. We don’t know. We have few mentors and people who shall… Continue reading
My Christmas prayer Thank you Lord of life and death. I had a safe and wonderful year. My children are near and grandchildren laughter overtake my home often. I have good heath and… Continue reading
Never left Michigan Years ago. I traveled the world. I Drank wine in Basel and Paris, danced in the streets of Florence and read poetry at Hyde Park in London. I… Continue reading