Good Morning Justin

Letter to  my Son
Sunday, 29 March

Good Morning Justin…

I’m not one to find a reason to stop long in Las Vegas.  I feel similar about Myrtle Beach.  Both places, though, are wildly popular.  On that basis alone they serve a real need.  And then there's the pleasure of finding colorful people at colorful places.

Some days seem far richer than others. 

He’s walking up a hill away from the downtown library.  His satchel filled with books. 

Occasionally the rug gets pulled out from under us.  If we are lucky we discover that falling on our ass doesn’t hurt as bad as we thought.

Sort of having a good time in an odd sort of way.

Every time I write a letter I wonder how big to blow up the balloon.  I suppose it deserves to be no bigger than the thoughts I have to give.  A letter need only express a simple feeling to make it worthwhile.  Each letter I send always starts with I’m thinking of you.

Love,

          Dad

© Tom Taylor  All Rights Reserved.

Good Morning Jacob

Letter to my Son
Sunday, 22 March

Good Morning Jacob…

I’m due back here once again.  The last visit had only the sound of a raven passing overhead.

The winds had flags flapping furious that afternoon.  I snooped all about the abandoned fuel stop. 

Desert sun reveals our every action as though caught by a strobe flashing away the dark.  OK, not really.

A gas station a hundred miles from anywhere rejoices in simple expressions of humanity.

Freed from the confines of home we let our eyes wander and our minds wonder.

One day let me see pictures from your thoughts.  Would you say good pictures always pose for us a question?

Love,

          Dad

© Tom Taylor   All Rights Reserved.

Mojave Images

The summer desert is often warm even as the sun rises.

Ancient farm relics and abandoned travel stops are slow to decay.

A morning freight passes through Needles on its way to LA.

© Tom Taylor.  All Rights Reserved.

Good Morning Jeremy

Letter to my Son

Wednesday, 18 March

Good Morning Jeremy...

                 I believe love is the means of traveling outside oneself.  

                 No need to go far to get a good view.

                 

                 I bought the movie Being Flynn.  Robert De Niro's character reminds me

                 a bit of myself.  I gladly hold onto a couple of those attributes.

                 

                   Love,
                           Dad


© Tom Taylor   All Rights Reserved.

Thursday AM

              
          what is it about a naked human form 
               directly in front of you?
 
 

                  

                painters take on human nudity
                 musicians write of love
                 writers talk about relationships

  

             

           we all visit the same neighborhood
               but constraints fashion our response.

            painters can portray love 
               but music does it better.

            writers can describe nakedness 
               but we'd rather see for ourselves.

            we each have a persuasion 
               about the human form
               and what it means to us.

© Tom Taylor  All rights reserved.

Small Town South

It's Sunday.  

The afternoon streets are nearly empty of people.  The first stop is Mount Pleasant, a crossroads town in North Carolina.  The day is warm and sunny.  Winter has come to an end on the day our clocks spring forward.

A few miles further down the road is the old brick village of Albemarle.  There are tall grain elevators near the tracks on the town's edge.  

A town big enough to have a courthouse is big enough to afford a memorial to the Confederate soldiers of the Civil War.  This memorial honors those who showed up and fought from Stanly County, North Carolina.

© Tom Taylor