Shanna Baldwin Moore, circa 1960.
To shanna
the wind
the sea
sun air
you
unashamed
blend inwith
the elements
becomepart of it
and then
disappear
into the sand--

eric 1960

This evening endless in its own end
has combined its colors
creating an image
on contact
I am lost to its legends
and as I sit by the surf
I am carried into a world
full of deep
down deeper
not drowning
but descending
into life
the life and legend
are mine now
I live here and now
I am a legend
known only to me
created by me
therefor must end
for I am
and I too
must end...
-- Shanna baldwin 1960In response to erics poem of me dissapearingInto the sand

Roscoe Weathers

Roscoe often dropped in

we had a few philosophical conversations.

He didn't need a journal to write poetry in,

some people are just "poetic"

his life was his poem...

a life commited to HIP!

an accomplished musician who could play flute,

and reed instruments,

he could make music as he walked along using his throat,

his whistle, and a way he had of trilling his lips,

he played "Swingin' Shepard Blues" for me,

he didn't need an instrument.

I was impressed by this man,

and it wasn't his music,

it was his COOL,

Roscoe Weathers

was/is

one of the COOLEST CATS I've ever known...

Vinci, Mullumbimby,Australia

strange fruit

the Lady singing the blues..
still tasting
the midnight air

shanna