Out

Two days of dancing ice.
I locked in the South with a glacial blue norther.

I Had to dig out, find my white car
Under its pale freeze of cloud born powder.

I had to drive with the snow sun
And glare dancing like desert diamonds,

Drive over black ice blue
Under tree thin shadows of polished ebony.

I Had to get out under the white sky skin,
The twig capillaries flattened budding sprigs.

Get to where no liquid ran
And Spring was a lonely lament
Unheard, unseen.

Leon

My handsome father, his sister, Gypsy and some neighborhood children.

My son's BD is today.

He is grown now and a continent away and does not communicate nearly as much as I would like.

I miss him. Pure and simple.

Russel Pearson

My father's brother, who died young in some sort of accident.

Clayton B. Moore,etc.

I get the feeling that my dad, Leon, might have been a bit of a "wild child". Here he is in the middle looking a bit like a shaggy pony.

Also, something about the full head of hair, the shape of the face and the stance, reminds me of Greg.

Last Days of Pompeii 1980

Isn't this a lovely image? It is the frontis for Last Days of Pompeii published around 1890.

You know, how do books survive so long? They outlive owners, moves, water and insect damage.

Somewhere once Mr. Craig McFaddens owned this. Long gone Mr. McFaddens, yet here his signature and his book remain.

"Heaven had given to Glaucus every blessing but one - it had given him beauty, health, fortune, genius, illustrious descent, a heart of fire, a mind of poetry; but it had denied him the heritage of freedom."

http://www.google.com/base/a/4571708/D7304807738038074778