God Laughed
Contrary to the evidence,
I put out the laundry
   filling the outdoor lines
     with shirts, socks, pants and panties, jeans and more.
In the distance
  there was thunder
    (as there had been most of the afternoon)
  which I gave no notice to
  before heading in to start a load of whites.
In the distance
  there was now lightning.
Again I took no notice
  (it had lightninged earlier, too);
I sat down to wait for the clothes to dry,
  the whites to wash.
Then the rain came:
  're-washing' our clothes
      washing gravel down the driveway
         and kicking my over confidence in the shins.

Struggling
I admit it: I'm struggling to fill this space. It's not that I can't say SOMETHING, it's that it's not interesting. To me. I know that that is the egoist in me wanting to satisfy himself, not his readers. On the other hand, I started writing this for me, not for others. Yet, the blog is now more than six months old (by a few days) and if I haven't run out of something to say much of it seems repetitious.

So, I'll continue to write. Continue the struggle.Because, let's face it, writing is a struggle. Sometimes the struggle is to find material, sometimes to find one word that will make something "perfect," sometimes to get the grammar and mechanics right and then sometimes (I didn't even know this problem existed) the problem is how to avoid sameness over a prolonged period of time.

I'll keep writing.

Please keep reading, and tell me how I'm doing.

Bill McCann

Factory Work
Wait
   for
     the
       part
         to
           drop.
Pick it up.
    Trim it.
    Stack it.
    Count it.
Wait for the next part.
Do this
    over
      and
        over.
Again.
and
Again
Come back the next day.
And do it for another eight hours.

Storm
Lightning
fills the window
   illuminating the wide outside
     and the intimate spaces
        of our bedroom.
Then the light is gone
   and all is dark.
Just for a moment.
Only until the next boom of thunder,
   the next burst of light
to be followed by
incessant
needed
rain.

Bright Lights
Under summer stars
   and stage lights
     a gem shines
in Danville:
Pioneer Playhouse.
Having given rise in decades past
  to stars of stage and screen--
Lee Majors, John Travolta and Jim Varney--
Recent years have seen
  playwrights ascendent:
     Liz Orendorf, Charles Edward Pogue
        and Robbie Henson,
whose father Eben put up the first
stage lights and dreamed of combining
bright lights
and stage lights
in Danville.

Foggy Morning
The house is shrouded in fog.
I can see only as far as the cloud allows.
Yet, I hear frogs croaking
   and birds chirping.
Soon the sun will come out,
melt off the fog
and give back the views,
as well as the sounds, that are
Roxford.

Sunset