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TBD on Ning

Bob Stepp's Blog (5)

Quiet Time

He sat at the head of the kitchen table bathed in the almost garish light of a single bare bulb directly over the table, and like his Mother before him he sipped a little of the morning’s first cup of coffee from the saucer instead of the cup. He always drank two cups, no more, no less of hot, black, percolated coffee and smoked one cigarette rolled from Prince Albert tobacco in a pouch while sitting at that table. He never said a word as he sat there, his chair turned sideways to the table,…

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Added by Bob Stepp on December 7, 2012 at 1:00pm — 2 Comments

On Knowing............The Missing Piece

Maybe there is another world out there running right along side this one.

And maybe you and I have been there for a long time......holding hands, walking together, sleeping together, touching,sharing laughter and tears, telling stories, all the while here in this world we lived apart unaware of that…

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Added by Bob Stepp on May 26, 2011 at 4:13pm — 5 Comments

My Hands

I looked at my hands today; looked at the backs where used to be tight, smooth skin browned by the sun and wind. Now I see scars of incidents and indescretions hiding amidst wrinkles and loose skin, and where there was once subtle lines of blue veins, the veins now seem to be larger making rather ugly road maps on the backs of my hands. The one ring I wear seems considerably looser than just a few years…

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Added by Bob Stepp on May 15, 2011 at 9:46am — 9 Comments

On Knowing The Land

If on a clear day in october there is a single dark puff of cloud on the northwestern horizon....a man sees it within moments of coming outside (that swift eye-sweep of the sky that you find in old rurals, even those ending their days in rest homes and wheeled onto a terrace for air) and guages its probable meaning.

Bouncing through a pasture in a pickup and passing a cow on her left side, he somehow discerns a wire cut on…

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Added by Bob Stepp on February 9, 2010 at 2:54pm — 2 Comments

TWO ROADS

I first saw the Lady above emerging from a mist as an ethereal figure walking along a broken road littered with broken dreams and broken promises. She walked alone with her shoulders back and her head high, proud, steady, but wounded. Occasionally a tear would slip down her cheek and drop to the road below raising a small plume of dust.. She stepped steadily forward, ignoring the stiff wind in her face, refusing to buckle to the disappointments life… Continue

Added by Bob Stepp on August 23, 2009 at 6:23am — 4 Comments

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