What Crosses My Mind

  • A Certain Melody

    I remember a time traveling the highway short ride to my exit just off the city ramp, ~ So many occasions I thought only of you soft chords of a melody when I listen tonight still … ~ Maybe it is the Beatles, back then the Fab Four – ‘Back in the USSR’ meant little…

  • A World of Measures

    We are a measured society. Our actions fall under values we would wish to believe manifest in our background, cultural mores, the manner we were raised, the people by which we surround ourselves. In order to feel a certain sense of security, I want to believe in doing the right thing, living a life of…

  • When Time Stands Still

    Usually news, not just an epiphany, perhaps a tragedy, friend nearby, makes us want to have a long cry when we, well similar sounding sigh, we, well, I cannot really describe the loss of uniformity while chaos rears its impulsivity upon the normalcy of our lives. ~ Last night a dear friend told me news…

  • Traveler Bags

    Is this sacred wisdom we carry its mystery a naked history remains impossible along the road. Step aside and watch time steady wheels weighed down in two ton reminder. The bags become a target ready to be pummeled first sighted a driver today might aim tomorrow disregard. Hide in the fields of shame distant traveler…

  • Quiet Roads

    The crunch of gravel kicking up dust from a distance looks like Urgency some need to get away keeps driving me further. Wanting to know yet feeling the distance, her just out of reach Philosophy. Just one more chance the embodiment of truth may lay only ahead never to be realized yet likely it is…

  • These Are Our Days

    We know them no filter moments side swept rains tease snow feel moisture on naked socks walking the dog a midnight rendezvous perhaps routine to some yet tonight, today, last year that calendar date might, may, will, has, did, does always, wants forever a return. Remember once quiet impassioned plea. I will always be here,…

  • Finding A Ledge

    Oh, I remember standing in a safe distance watching them play the risk to the edge, wondering of the five there, two over near, a dozen way beyond the fence, were any one vulnerable, wondering just really curious about the edge, the immediacy of leaving behind memory and travels. ~ I’ve stood on many a…

  • Memory Might Delight

    So often would I return terrors of childhood only heard in a solo preoccupied mind. Would that I focus upon ills and yet now she allows soft is a memory sweet in mind and soul where heart does speak of muse and mystique. ©️ Thom Amundsen 12/8/2020

  • There Are These Days

    A couple of weeks ago my world went dark. I made horrific plans, mapped out the day, my valuables, important tokens of my life. I say this because it does happen to people, and now I feel a better grasp and that is more valuable than any guilt or shame over previous moments in my…

  • Letting Words Become Our Own

    Have lost the day of the week, my pen is dry of ink, for the pattern of time did dissipate and all mention of passion did deteriorate.   In a wild search, looking everywhere around us, in our dreams, daily routines, a hot summer day, a cold bitter frost, every occasion that man somehow seems…