A mug full #poem

To have great affection for a pub
is much like missing an old friend,
and when you see that friend
nothing has changed and you sit
down with a mug of beer and
catch up on how the outside
looks from the inside view.

-M. Taggart

And to think it could have been

And just like how you thought it would be,
it was.

And the oak fell with the most delicate calculation,
given by the softness of the pushing wind,
and came to be with a thud where it is now.
The wind took its leave and was never seen again;
only remembered by the one who had first
seen how it could be.

And even if told to another
it wouldn’t have mattered.

Because it was
and it didn’t.

-M. Taggart

A month again and again a month.

Today came and shortly after Today came again.
It goes like this. It will always go like this, and I
dislike the word always, but I find it grand to
think about the departure of one day for another,
and I think it grand about how even after the
most beautiful sunrise, that I know in my heart,
there will be a more beautiful sunrise soon enough.

-M. Taggart

To Be. A Poem. #pros

I have this nearly non-stop feeling
to leave the house and do something.
Anything. Walk, hunt, fish, visit family,
drive to the ocean, cross state lines
and not follow rules. So, that’s what I do.
I used to say to be free in America
is to be without debt. But with Covid,
my feelings on freedom has transitioned.
Never did I think my government would
prohibit movement and daily freedoms
to the level they have. Thankfully, I didn’t
listen, and it felt great to not listen and
to find my new freedoms by not staying put.
This may very well become the most
important Spring of my lifetime.
Every May flower is waiting to be seen.
They only need to be planted first.

-M. Taggart

Poem

Driving to the pub, I knew I wouldn’t
like sitting at the bar as much as if
my family was with me, but I drove
anyway and felt the unease of knowing
how I’d already feel while at the bar
with my book. I parked and looked
at the entrance to the pub. It wasn’t
much to look at but I looked anyway.
Inside, it was much as I expected it to be.
The bartender asked where my family was.
I told her that they ditched me. They didn’t
want to come to the pub, this time.
She smiled and said that our son was handsome
and that he was always polite.
I like that things don’t feel as good when I’m
at the pub without my family.
I ordered a Guinness and read from my book,
Growth of the Soil.

-M. Taggart

Growth of the Soil, written by Knut Hamsun.

Intelligence #pros

Intelligence is walking into a room full of people that
you don’t know and immediately understanding who is
upset and who is hurting and instinctively knowing
with your undercurrent of compassion how to help them.

-M. Taggart