I'd rather be hated for who I am, than loved for whom I am not;
I'd rather be loved for who I am, than hated for whom I am not.


wake me
I walk this path
alone and quite slowly
fearing I'll disturb someone else
a trance

Breakfast rain.


this rainfall
sizzles through the leaves
eggs fry

__From my scribble pad of last Saturday night as we watched the red cresent moon setting; and the doves will coo at night.


moonset
beyond the west shore pines
doves coo

__Silence, may seem "indifference;" silence, though, allows the listener of that silence... to reach their own resolution... without the harmful imprint of the "silent's" thoughts and words.
__I sincerly wish you a very Happy Birthday, Daughter Jess! Much love, Dad.


birthday
of these silent years
flowers

Echoes. Reflections; their nightly conversation, in a looking glass.


frog talk
in this quiet night
a mirror

I often visit "Tinywords," there is some fine short poetry there, by those that are; I am not.
__I link the word -poses- with the Great Blue Heron, their grace.


daybreak
this great blue poses
a sundial

....."pistol journalism"

__This 'title-phrase', as I see it, was written by Louis Vance in his loosely historic novel "The Dead Ride Hard," first published in 1926. I draw a simile between that phrase, and politics.
__Oh... some 'humor' attempted here! _m


politics
spewing the schemer's jumble
these grackles

... and last night at the pond.


clouds weep
this catbird still sings
thunder bass