This has been a very busy Monday.

First I had to go to the bank and  Walgreens on the way to Sheboygan Falls for a couple of errands for Mother.     I got to Blessed Trinity just on time, though we do operate a bit on Irish time and I am using that cushion.

We are, as I mentioned, studying the Book of Acts of the Apostle.   Very interesting.   We are in Chapter 4 Verses 30 and on when the disciples of Jesus had joined together and pooled everything and it was wonderful and no one was in need or hungry.    We discussed the fact that even so close to the time that Jesus was among them, this utopia did not last too long.   The trouble with utopia is that someone has to be in charge and also some people be their nature will allow everybody else to do everything.  Power brings problems and corruption and so does apathy and laziness.  We also discussed that this is actually communism which in its pure form seems like an ideal way to live.  Unfortunately there are always people on both ends of the scale who will take advantage of the situation.

Then I went to Mom's.   She is fine.   Kind of tired and is having some trouble remembering things.    It seems to be because she doesn't always hear things or because of her tiredness it doesn't stick.   She is still reading the paper as best she can and keeping up with news.   We got her bills paid and I put a few things back in their places from Christmas.   She does not like to wait.  Always sweet about it but sometimes I just do things because I don't like her fretting about it.

Then I went to pick up Sy Regan and we went to the Sheboygan Writers together.   That was fun.   I did have a short poem to read.   I have been rather dry the past month of so but did write one on my way home from OK.

I am not putting it here as I may want to submit it somewhere and they want unpublished items.

I would like to share one of my brother Matt's poems.   I have been reading them lately.

THE NOMAD

the nomad has
been had
his hiways have been used
and he's been refused
in the bars
and saloons 
of a society 
he never made
the nomad has 
been had
all thru these recent years
and has cried too many tears
because all he hears
is how the 
nomad
has been had

His poems were usually dark and he used no capital letters or punctuation.

Dia Dhuit

Mary