How could you not know that?


First time around with child rearing

Was relatively easy

Particularly with my old school perceptions

Of parental responsibilities

Women, okay the Mother in this case

Would probably do most of the heavy lifting

And be compensated by my advice

Truly silent suffering maintained our relationship

But much to my chagrin

She begot her own payback

Dressed now to look like a five year old

Irascible, know it all, forty six pound female

Transporting this precious cargo is my main employment

Nonetheless my traveling companion

Is of the considered opinion she has a better way

To choose her own, clothes, breakfast, and time to get up

My only defense is to interject

None of my entreaties are of my own volition

But rather at the commands of her parents and ‘Nanna’

This rationale seemed to tame the ‘beast’

Till arriving at ‘Nanna’s’ house when a duck was observed all cozy in grass

As oblivious as a male can be,

This male questioned out loud, “ I wonder if that duck is sitting on an egg”?

Emerging  from her throne of a car seat the five year old said,

PaPa, its a boy,

Her aged and white haired PaPa queried

How did you know it was a boy?

Because, it has a green neck with lots of color she answered

Surreptitiously I thought I would ask,  “How did you know that”?

Her simple and deflating retort was pure agony

PaPa, how could you not know that?

Okay, so I’m guessing I’m down 1-0.

Frank X Cameron  6/8/2021 Copyright









Oh that voice


Hearing aids seem like they might be a nuisance

But when I heard your call

But really your voice

The hearing aids transferred the memory of you immediately to my brain

Whch is when my eyes closed and I saw you, so, so clearly

I’ve known you since I was 12

So long since I had seen or heard from you

This pandemic seemed to bury us all in  our own worlds

But then you called and like a hologram

I could see you, in the many moments I have known you

Skinny freshmen playing pick up basketball

Prayerful boys trying to be better

Adult lives consuming us as we started families

Your call like the breeze through leaves

Breathed new life into a listless mind

Reminding me of the multitude of precious moments we have shared

Of course we reminisced about our aging bodies and nagging injuries

Yet, the real palpable feeling was that we needed to be again

Together and not just on the phone as sweet as it was

That you called me

Thank you precious friend

FXC 05/17/2021 Copyright



Dog poop

Some of life’s lessons
Take a lifetime to learn
Oftentimes one’s earlier years

Are spent ‘spinning one’s wheels

Never enough time in the day

Necessitates shortcuts

To accomplish the requirements of the ‘good things’

Working, raising children, married

Will tax any schedule

Even now writing has taken a back seat to

The ‘To do list’

Never worried about dog poop before

Fed, watered the dog

Even  had dogs that were walked

Some regularly relieved themselves while on a walk

But a few, particularly the current one, Hannh,

Is a thirteen years old black rescue lab

Who now is of the opinion that locating her favorite spot in the back yard is quite alright

Yet, yet Hannah does not understand

That the back yard is the private property of the mistress of the house no less

The propieter of the bock yard, spends endless hours grooming

And cajoling life out of a  once dormant landscape

The protocol of where a dog poops and who will clean it up and when

Should have been in the original contract when this relationship started

And I’m quite sure like so many other prior edicts

This one had already been explained to me many, many times before

But cutting grass will often bury dog poop

Eliminating the need to remove it

But when grandchildren started arriving the rule began to be rigidly enforced

Hmm?  Patio home time?

FXC 5/15/2021 Copyright


July 7th 1967

Sometimes without thinking

Lady Luck falls in your lap

So many women in my life

My Mother, grandmother, aunts, sisters, daughters, cousins, even girlfriends

Oh sure, there were squabbles

But each one like the facet on a diamond,

Revealed the intrinsic beauty of a woman

I suspect young men all think they are the cat’s meow

Only time will school a boy

On the sweetness of what true love is

Passion is fine, in fact it’s great

Yet the ebb and flow of living

The sadness and joy that flows  around us

Is best understood over time

By the woman walking beside you

Who once cheered your races,

But now holds your hand to steady your pace

July 7th 1967 Lady Luck

Bought my sister’s best friend into my life

FXC 05/09/2021 Copyright






The end of selfies

Where did the day go

When judging others by their looks was informative

Hair too long, shirt wrinkled, crooked teeth, no makeup

Of course the presumption was that

We had the right ‘look’, the right ‘age’

And naturally, ‘good looking’

But like a piece of granite in an artist’s hand

Bit by bit a new image was chiseled

One that exhibited realism

Like a modern day ‘selfie’

Skewered perceptions of beauty, age, and taste

Drifted to the floor

As the artist created

Their vision of what could be

Best to leave dreams of one’s  best selfie

Locked in memory

FXC 05/02/2021





Through the looking glass

Periodically would wonder

About my Dad, gone now since 1969 when he was 59

Death usually leaves no time for reflection

Living pulls you out of the lethargy of grief

A good man I believe, though I was only 19 then

His story was not really unusual

Military man, lawyer, father of seven

Worked every day, long hours

Often tried to imagine who he was, what he thought

Hadn’t quite gotten my act together yet

But he left me with out judgement

Who was he

Stare at his last good picture

That is all we can ever remember

Lost his Mother when he was twenty seven

Seemingly quite happy with a large brood

Though as typical  my Mother ran the house

So really shadows of memories

Sill float in my mind

As time winds down

Wondering now what legacy I will have left

Know quite well my weaknesses

Looking in my children’s eyes

As if viewing a Looking Glass

Yet at the end of the day

Pray, pray so hard

They know as I did

They are loved

As the look back

FXC 05/02/2021Copyright





Pink flowers that never die

Seems life’s lessons of late

Are learned from those just learning language itself

Always conscious of inculcating proper grammar

Pronouns, gerunds, etc.which categorize

Language that we might understand one another

But lessons never printed on a proper grammar book

Seem to be quite clear to the youngest minds

So that is why ‘artificial flowers’

Which I took to be a good explanation

Are now

Pink flowers that never die

FXC  4/8/2021 Copyright



The new season

So many seasons to play

Seemed different sports would fill the seasons

Each requiring alleged stretching and lifting suggestions

Suggestions which youth might well laugh off

But in the fall of life creeping towards winter

Muscles seem to take longer to stretch

Aches less likely to fade

But the most painful experience is illusion

That one might stop cutting the grass mid November

Then one day pull the chain to mow again in April

Mmmm yes extremely painful

An hour later one struggles to open the garage again

Pushing the disabling equipment away

For whatever reason

No connection made between pain and lawn cutting

The next morning through, over a long cup of coffee

Time permits  the memory to peel back

The idiocy of an individual

Who blissfully ended the lawn cutting season mid November

And without thought again pulled the chain  In April

Aspirin anyone?

FXC 04/05/2021 Copyright






The Remote

The Remote

The good old days

I beg to differ

In a court of law

Would simply need to parade

The various inventions

That have ramped up the term


Reflect now

Those of sufficient age

What you might turn to if lost


Or needed to speak to someone more than 15 feet away

Yeah, cell phones

Still a few would remember the angst of not having indoor plumbing

Don’t want to step  outside to bend down for your paper

Read it online as well as shop, worship, gossip, watch movies, listen to music or Zoom

As Wi-fi endlessly streams 24/7

You can even work out to exercise videos

There was a time when a child might be considered raised and and independent

If they were toilet trained and could manually change the three channels on  the TV

But now real independence and maturity is measured by the ability

To turn off all this new fangled stuff with The Remote

FXC 4/5/2021 Copyright



The Conversation

The Conversation

Eyes focused on the goal

Backs bent pushing

You and I on the back burner

Tomorrow was like a due bill

For the 1st of the month

There would be time

To finally live our dreams

Travel to distant lands

Feel the mist of the cool ocean on our wrinkled skin

Explore a new skill set, or maybe just maybe

Plan as if we would one day actually start the car and leave the driveway

But before that happened we experimented

Slipped out one weekend to Brown County

Three days no responsibilities

Done this numerous times

Usually camping with kids

Now driving by memories

Brought more memories of our simple pleasurable past

But making new memories was going to be harder to imbed

Antique stores once seemingly on top of one another

Now seemed achingly distant

Lunch could only be obtained by further effort

2PM shuttered the day

Of course no acknowledgement by either of us

Glancing away so the subject could b avoided

Resting for just a minute should provide the impetus

To revive these septuagenarian bodies

But hours of restless reading

Just delayed the inevitable conversation

What happened?

Walking for hours, staying up late

Traveling endlessly

Were gone, very distant, even irretrievable memories

Then piece by piece what was past, what could be, and what needed to be

Were sorted out finally!

What a relief

Best three day weekend we ever had

FXC 04/02/2021 Copyright