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The Rankin FileBob Rankin's commentary on Life, the Internet
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About twenty years ago when I was a young father, my own father passed this poem on to me. It had been given to him many years earlier. I consider it one of my most cherished possessions, even though it cannot be held with hands...
One early summer day I took a hike to the top of a ridge in the Shawangunk mountains. Lots of tall trees all around me -- growing, living, flowering and dying together.
People, places, things... loved, lost and remembered.
I seem to reflect more on the meaning of the days that are a time between times. The time between Christmas and New Year's, or the day between Labor Day and the beginning of school. This one came to me on a Saturday.
Sometimes we discover a flaw in our selves, a glitch in our soul...
Here's my "closure" poem. If you've ever tried your best, failed, and then determined to try again, you might identify with some of the elements...
On the rare occasion that inspiration happens to strike me, I may make an attempt at poetry. I've been working on a series called Human/Nature, which looks at human frailty reflected in nature. Here's one that I wrote about a year ago...