Shrouded Shore: The Many Musings of Thom Singleton

  When the Universe Says “No” Invitation sent Invitation accepted First restaurant phoned, no answer Second restaurant phoned, no answer Third restaurant phoned, closed today Ordered take-out One invitee had to work late Order canceled Maybe we’ll try again tomorrow 

  Haiku - March 31, 2023 Trump is indicted No one is above the law What’s next for the ex? 

  Haiku - March 30, 2023 Spring is in the air Robins and red wings up there Still snow on the ground

  Haiku - March 29, 2023  There’s rhyme, metaphor,   Onomatopoeia. Cool poetry

  Haiku - March 28, 2023 What is the secret? What did I do different? Slept like a baby last night!

  The Story of My Life      I’m writing a book, I’ve got the page numbers done.                                                                Steven Wright Well, okay, I’ve got more than the page numbers. My autobiography amounts to seventy-some eight-and-a-half-by-elevens, so far. That’s not a lot for a 76 year-old guy. But do I ever really want to get done with this project? There’s always more memories that will come up. That’s because, I’m told, as you age you remember things better about your childhood than what you had for breakfast. Even though all you ever have for breakfast is toast and coffee. Who wants to be finished with an autobiograp...

  Haiku - March 27, 2023 They’ve got hooves, antlers There’s big birds at the feeder Well, okay, they’re deer

  Haiku - March 26, 2023 Sunday, it’s the best It’s a sundae of a day Go to church, eat, rest

  Haiku - March 25, 2023 What’s that outside, fog? The very air is snow white. It’s a spring whiteout.

  (Sp)ring Sn(ow) Sunny yesterday, snowy today March 25th, and white-out! The very air is white today Thick with snow Or is it sleet? Or a combination? Falling hard like rain Here’s a new word for it, “slain” Or “sneet” Definitely not “slow” Maybe, for spring snow, “spow” But it’s not spring yet It’s winter  Or “sprinter”  Or “ringter” Or how about just “spit!”

  Haiku - March 24, 2023 Spring in Wisconsin Today’s weather: sunny, mild And tomorrow’s: snow

  Haiku - March 23, 2023 3-23-23 The repeating date a sign? Or just musical

  Early Spring in Wisconsin The seemingly eternal snows melt. The raw wind blows thick with cold damp. The gray clouds shed their watery load. It’s good now to remember that all this precious moisture  goes to feed our myriad lakes, sparkling rivers, and fertile farms Remember, too, the sultry summer, when we no longer bundle our bodies but cool in the lake water splash, wearing only the societal minimum. Water, snow, ice changes from something to protect against to something to cool us off. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhh!!!    

  Haiku - March 22, 2023 Two little brothers Got them off to school today Grandkids George and Gus

  Haiku - March 21, 2023 Empty bird feeder Just filled it up yesterday Those hungry grackles!

Whispering Wood Out beyond there is a forest, A forest forgotten by the woodcutter. Where the wood whispers in the wind, And tries to hide its denizens. Whispers of its denizens of feather and fur. There are many of the feathered ones none too secretive, What with their showy colors and familiar song. Only the evergreens hide them. Colorful stand-outs are the blazing red cardinal and the sky-blue jay. Unmistakable voices are those of the mourning dove and the barred owl. The furred ones are much better at keeping a secret, The secret of themselves, in the tangled wood. The chipmunks and mice, the red squirrels and cottontails, The red fox and white-tails, the woodchucks and raccoons, All give us merely a glimpse of their mysterious lives. The wood does its best to keep their secrets.   

  The Tongue Steers the Canoe      Oke alelo ka hoe uli o ka ‘olelo a ka waha                                                -  ‘Olelo No’eau      Translated from the Hawaiian:      The tongue is the steering paddle of the words uttered. The tongue navigates the now,  Sets the course of the canoe over years and years, through…      Life’s ever-changing currents,      Waters reflecting the hope of the rising sun,      Blending of bodies and lives afloat on gentle seas,      Crashing waves of relationship woes,      Lotus gardens watered by the te...

  Today I Will Make Up Words I will do this for phun - hey, I already did it! Phun, what you do when you are at a loss for something - anything!!?? - to write about. Here goes…      Yamoosh, mashed yams.      Truthnot antisocial, whatever a former president - you know who - says.      Threeder, a reader at age three.      Cleandirt, the brown stuff still on your carrot after you pull it up from your organic garden.      Dirtydirt, why my wife follows me around the house.      Fundirt, what kids - and I guess, me - invariably find in the environment and on their clothes.      Thojersing, a soldier with a lisp that likes to sing, probably a Viking, or my name abbreviated.      Baba, a Hindu holy man, or what my little grandson August calls me, his version of grandpa.    ...

  Haiku - March 20, 2023 Snow turning dirty Beautiful when it’s falling Can’t wait for green time

  A Walk in the Heavens Take the rainbow bridge from our small orb. Walk the path of colors into night. For the world ends not on the mountaintop or even at the glowing moon. It soars through years of light, beyond the beyond. Climb the star steps through the long night to other worlds of mystery. Here the walk uncovers our destiny, our destiny in the Heavens. Do not, though, discard this Earth like an empty tin can a t the side of the road. Heal our planet if we are to survive, survive and be welcomed on others. Healing our planet is healing ourselves. We, the Earth, and the Heavens are one.  

  Haiku - March 19, 2023 Monday ends winter But just on the calendar Wind-chill cold today

  Where the Dead Live On a hill in southern Wisconsin, Open to the sky and farmlands there, Lies a small village of the dead. In the center a ruins, a ruins of a chapel, Just four stone walls left there. Done-in likely by lightning to show man  That his works are as transitory as he is. Nearby lie two ancestors, my Dad’s parents. My Grandfather I never met as he passed before I was born. By all accounts, a hard worker in the Great Depression, Who kept his sense of humor, and passed it to my Dad. Next to him, my Grandmother’s last bed. I know her at the level of a three-year-old’s feelings, For she lived with us then but passed too soon. My memories of her are sweet, as sweet as she was, And certainly a blessing to her husband and son. This place we visit is their last home. We visit to learn from them still, To keep alive their memory and honor them,  Honor them in the passage of time. They are alive in our hearts.

  Haiku - March 18, 2023 Little sleep last night What was to worry about? Just the state of Earth

  George, Almost 7, Reverses Roles George’s Mom, Amy, related this story…           While I was pumping gas, George asked for some junk food from the gas station. I told him that we don't eat food from a gas station.           Another day was donut day, and the bakery was closed, so I told George that we            could get a donut at Kwik Trip. He asked if Kwik Trip was a gas station.           I told him, “Yes.” George said, “We can’t eat food from a gas station.”

  How to be a Poem      If you cannot be a poet, be the poem.                                        David Carridine Be yourself, not someone else. The someone you were as a child? The someone who someone else wants you to be? The someone who you want yourself to be in the future? No, just be who you are in this moment. A rock, a tree, a bird, a baby are all poems, why not you? Share your moment. Be transparent. Let the light that is you shine through. You are your own poet, your life the poem.

  Haiku - March 17, 2023 It’s St. Patrick’s Day Who drove snakes out of Ireland Now we have green beer??!!

  Haiku - March 16, 2023 Nepal safari… We saw the Himalayas, Monkeys, crocs, rhinos!

  The Upside-Downer: Ekphrasis of a Photographic Joke Wheels on his head? How does he stay up, When his head is down Rolling on the ground? Must be a yogi. Or maybe it’s just photography… As in, he puts the wheels on his head And turns the photo upside down So the viewer is fed some foolery.

  Haiku - March 15, 2023 Walked the two-bridge route Four miles, an hour-and-a-half Beautiful blue sky

  Haiku - March 14, 2023 Sunny, blue sky, but The temperature is cold Four mile walk today

  Memories of our National Parks, Monuments, Lakeshores, and Seashores Re-lived and written down, March, 2023. Isle Royale: Canoed to and set foot on the largest island (Ryan) in the largest lake (Siskiwit) on the largest island (Isle Royale) in the largest lake (Superior) in the world. Voyageurs: Canoed on a rough Rainy Lake with superb paddling by bow paddler Patti on the way to a wilderness campsite, and eventually to a historic hotel accessible only by water. Theodore Roosevelt: Longhorn cattle, bighorn sheep, and bison, surrounded by a frenzy of oil wells and fracking. Yellowstone: Old Faithful, Mammoth Hot Springs, Grand Canyon of the Yellowstone, bison. Grand Teton: Boated on the Snake River, hiked Jenny Lake trail. Glacier: Hikes to rivers and waterfalls. Mount Rainier: Hikes to waterfalls, Reflection Lake. Olympic: Camped overlooking the Pacific and on the Hoh River, hiked in the Hoh Rainforest, Olympic Mountains, mountain goat. Crater Lake: A blue as deep - average depth ...

  Haiku - March 13, 2023 Snow, snow, snow, snow, snow Snow, snow, snow, snow, snow, snow, snow Guess what fell last night

  Haiku - March 12, 2023 A quote by Oliver Wendfell Holmes            Poet, novelist, essayist, physician 1809 to 1894 Oliver W. Holmes: Death tugs at my ear and says, “Live, I’m coming.”

  Look Closer Can’t wait for spring color Marigolds of the marshes Lavender lilacs Violet irises Greening of the grasses But it’s early March Snowstorms keep coming Blizzards blowing Frozen cloud bursts Like shards of flying glass Leaving monochromatic white in their wake But look closer in the rare sunlight Fluorescence is there Snow crystals refract light scattered in the white Diamonds, rubies, emeralds shine bright Bejewel the snowy mantle of Earth

  Haiku - March 11, 2023 I like our cool home. It’s mid-century modern Similar to me

Tasteful  Cloud Art Artisans afloat in the clouds weave a new white carpet from billions of flakes, Each like no other in their crystalline take on what makes beauty. But the snow flake makers do not end there in their sensual artistry, For their palette is not just visual. The gray wood is laced, the spruce graced, the maple laced, All the world given a taste of vanilla.