Sidetracked Charley

On a Wing Photograph by J. Binford-Bell Icarus flew Soaring on the early light lifted by the currents of change lighted by hope dawning.  Icarus fell the sun's rays melted the wax of hope. Icarus fell to the rigid earth unyielding  reality of status quo no hope cushioned his landing. But Icarus flew for a time and they cheered. J. Binford-Bell July 2016 Thank you, Senator Bernie Sanders, for giving us hope for at least a brief moment.

The college convened Their duty before them Validate a monarch Or preserve The republic He would destroy. Never before Such a clear choice. Never before Such dire consequences Not either or But none of the above. Nobody spoke They milled around Like cattle in a stock yard. Sheep being led To slaughter Through a gate of their choosing. Peter Brown Someone yelled Who is he Another replied. Me, one of the milling sheep replied I am Peter Brown. Who are you? Several asked in one voice. Nobody, Peter Brown answered Red or Blue The condemned Wanted to know. Brown, Peter answered. Silence reigned Even the milling ceased All in favor A voice in their midst asked All said aye. And that is how We came to live In this White house On a green lawn Peter Brown said To the yellow press. Jacqui Binford-Bell July 2016

A Tale of Three A clown, a crone, a scribe One seeking consent another a coronation the third a rewriting of a dark future. The Clown and the Crone engage in battle royal each creating new ways to cheat the Scribe counted coup. The Clown laughed as he stirred the pot a witches brew an evil stew nothing new. The Crone crowed my turn, mine texted hexes denied accusations as crones would do. The Scribe smiled pointing out the truth a bird landed on the speech upon the podium. The crowd was not appeased they wanted blood they cowered when the Crone cackled You must follow me. To the cliff they went The Clown flipping  somersaults The scribe numbling no, no, no The Crone yelling I am your savior. Who's the fool? J. Binford-Bell July 2016

Reflections in a Still Pond July, friends and I at a Chamber of Commerce event were noting, is entirely too busy. And once, I am told, nothing other than the 4th happened in July in Angel Fire. And we were not the community which had parades or fund raisers for the fire department or set off the fireworks. Those were Red River, Wheeler Peak, and Eagle Nest. So an effort was made to fill the calendar. I do believe we have created a monster. It was only the 22nd, just after the garden tour, and those of us making our command appearances at the ribbon cutting for the newest Texas owned business in our New Mexico mountain town were already looking all in. Nine more days to go. This weekend is the High Country Arts and Crafts Fair in Eagle Nest. Some of us will no doubt attend. I am staying home. And I confess I did not do the garden tour either. I was tending to my own garden. And celebrating my new camera. And culling through emails requesting my involvement at events into Septembe