An English In Kentucky


















March 2nd  2011    Tim Candler

    Lately I have contributed to this journal in the first hours of the day.  More likely this has been an error, because I do not bounce from the bed chirping like a Chickadee.  Indeed, artifact might describe me better.  I am crotchety, and less agile than a ladder.

     Those flying creatures outside with their enthusiasm for cold mornings can convince me that I belong to a species that has no origin here on the earth.  We came in capsules, we still wear space suits and would quickly perish without footwear.

     I can see the ancestors now.  Livid with the higher authority for exiling them to this place.  At home we were like squirrel or rabbit, here we are extraneous, unearthly and probably wrong.

    Around mid morning I can usually flap a wing, tweet a little, look for a worm and stop wondering why.. 

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