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









It is what it is

A well versed lawyer familiar

With the machinations of the court room

Would often finish conversations

With the phrase

‘It is what it is’

Which I took to mean

Nothing I could do about it

Over the years though

Often heard the same phrase from others

As if an unknown pallor had descended on all of us

Yet, felt as if the phrase was meant as a cure all

To explain good news, bad news, no news

Finally learned its real purpose

Was to reduce anxiety

A free elixir to alleviate

General uneasiness brewing within us

Well that’s okay

’It is what it is’

FXC 03/21/2021 Copyright






The only thing worth fighting for

Traveling as often we do

To and fro

Eleven years now

So small and petite when our journeys began

There was always a destination in our plans

Life is just a chance

You were my moment to stay in the game

Aging grandfathers can flower in Florida

Letting their little ones visit

Or on the flip of a coin

Find themselves basking in the sunshine

Of their growing protege

Your first name was Princess

So always knew there was an accountability

Of our conversations

Actually my long background

Dealing with women

Prepared me to understand

Time was at a premium

Soon you would be back in school

Friends, sports, dating, career

Our time together but a memory

This past year so long

So much school work, playing, iPads, snacks, traveling

That changed today

School started back

While micromanaging your exit from the vehicle

Extolled your virtues once again

Spoke of missing you

Then your arms wrapped around my neck

Your face close to mine

You whispered, ‘Bye Papa’

Thank goodness I was wearing a mask

FXC  03/18/2021 Copyright








  • As if competing with the gods

Your eyes often transfixed upwards

Memorized by the moving clouds

Creation has always been your strength

Today is no different

Asked to paint clouds on a ceiling

You assembled your tools of creativity

But the vision remains in your mind

You feel the warm wind gently blowing

Cirrus clouds

Your scaffolding is two step stools

Hands gnarled with arthritis

But those white clouds need your touch

To exist

Please though, at 71, don’t fade into your art

FXC 03/06/2021 Copyright



Was contacted by a family member

About our relationship

Fortunately was on good terms with this individual

But got me to wondering about those behind me and to the side

Started the search the usual way parents, grandparents

Became fascinated with the pictures

Couldn’t see  myself in any of those tin type looking pictures

Occasionally my mind would wonder

Mentally trying to picture their environment

Always sympathetic to those without indoor plumbing

But I digress

And though I wish there were biographies of my ancestors

All that really exists is conjecture

Came to understand there was strong possibility we are all related

Bad news there

I have not always treated others right

Glad I don’t have to many followers on this blog

Or I would be hearing from them

Even blocked a friend of forty years on Facebook book for his political views

Good Lord help me

Redemption is possible though

Started Zooming with outlying family members

Who I had neglected for years

So, so grateful for a second chance

To once again be called their brother!

FXC 3/6/2021 Copyright






My name is not Webster

A close confidant divulged

That new words are being added

To the Webster dictionary every year

How exciting!

Seemingly the culture is changing

God forbid a lexicon would not be updated

Truly a serendipity moment

As objects I once knew as ‘whatchamacallit’

Now would have a specific name

Each of us has our own personal vision

Of what a ‘thing’ is

Periodically that vision is not able to be vocalized

As the picture of that object in our mind

Like a card in a deck of cards

Gets lost like in a ‘52 pick up game’

The eyes search inward as a roulette wheel

Tries to spit out possibilities

No point, eyes with fixed glaze

Join hands with the mind

Announcing a new name for the irascible object


FXC 3/3/2021 Copyright






Heard rumors

In hushed conversations

Heard rumors

Questions about your memory

Medicines and therapies adopted

To slow the process down

You and I talked

Actually more than we had in years

Talked about memories

Our memories, family memories

Honestly my memory has also lost its zest

Have had other close friends awash in this vacuum

That seemingly erodes

‘How precious memory is’ you repeat to me

Asking me to send pictures, stories I remember

That might light the embers of what is receding relentlessly

This void I’ve seen in others

The bewilderment in their eyes

As if their very existence is being erased

We cling to each other now

Still so calm you are

As always you have been

Starting my search for old pictures of us

To retell our story that we might talk again

When you see my name on

Caller id

FXC 2/28/2020 Copyright