Standing on a Table holding a TV

That suture in my side 

Tells me I strained too hard.

Lifting that thing up,

Or was it twisting.

Could be either.

But I stood on top of that table

And hung that damn TV on the wall,

By myself.

But that table held me.

Let it Work

 A tiller is hard to control.

But it makes for new crops.

You just need to hold on and let it work.

Comparing Trails

Some people cross your path.

Some paths you tread have the same people.

We compare trails. 

When Your Children Take Things From You

Saving, Spending, Making, Lending.

Giving.

Time, Money, Self, Love.

Rent or Own, it's Mine.

Do we ever really own anything anyway?

Absconding quietly.

It would be worthless if it belonged to anyone else.

 

My Frio River

Mirrored glass water I see myself high up in this tree.

Your smile bright as the rocks, way down there where you sit.

Fish look up too.

Rope hung so high on cypress where I've climbed, I hadn't before seen everyone watching too.

I'm not scared.  At least they can't tell. Nor you, I think.

Or can't anyone see this worn out rope?

Rungs made of cut lumber at my head, heading up.  A new way.

I don't trust that rope, but I trust my hands.

Very much higher I climb, more gasps from below.

Every floater watches me high, blue sky and Baldy at my back.

River crystal green below, I step off and down I go.