some darn right fearful emotional blends.

In my youth answers carried such an easy writ

when experience barely scratched its own dendrochronological whit.

Back then gentle breezes tipped my compass,

willy nilly that path chosen thought the plumpest

to taste whatever occasion wrought

unaware or blind of what might be fraught.

In things said and neglected

can’t undue but still affected.

Impending storm? I ha...