Things I learned in High School

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When I think back on the things I learned

I wonder what fragment remains after sixty years

Math and Literature History and Civics

all are fading fast, but there is one skill

I use every day, creating this blog for you…

Typing skills remain


Stamp Art Typewriter: Dwight L. Roth

d’Verse prompt for Quadrille Monday… type… or a form of the word.

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Today I worked on a lawnmower that would not run for a neighbor in our development. Some of you will recognize this as the carburetor bowl. As you can see it has dirt and sediments is mixed in with the gas. When the gas gets sucked through the carburetor to the cylinder those sediments clog up the jets and keep the gas from flowing, stalling out engine. Once the carburetor was cleaned and the gas tank drained, I added new gas and the engine started right up.

Summer lawns grow fast

Sediments keep mower stalled

Clean carb lets it run


Distractions in life

Often stall relationships

Clean out sediments

Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Dog Days of Summer

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August is like hump day for summer

Topping the hot rise of extreme temps

Starting the downhill chug into cooler weather

August is a month of anticipation

Vacation days coming to a close

as children and teachers anticipate

school opening sooner than they would like

August is anticlimactic in its celebrations

No fireworks, No flag waving, No Historic events

Even September gets Labor Day!

August is like the jet lag we feel

after a week’s visit from grandparents

Pleasantly exhausted, yet full of memories

Photo: Dwight L. Roth

Today, at d’Verse, Sanaa asked us to consider the lesser celebrated month of August. She asked us to write a poem reflecting on what memories we might have of this month.

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Chasing Windmills


Slowly floating down the canal at Kinderdjik, we looked up amazed at the giant windmills. We were told that people lived in the windmills and there was a waiting list for those who wanted to live in one. It was a beautiful, serene site, the bank lined with reeds and ducks floating nearby.

About half-way down the row of Windmills, I looked up, surprised to see a young girl perched on small shelf peaking over the big steel wheel that turned the windmill into the wind. She seemed to find it interesting to watch all the tourists come and go wondering why they were so captivated by what she simply considered to be home.

As we approached, her mother, behind the reeds, was hanging their clothes on a line to dry. This is a much simpler life than most of us live. It is a wonderful place to come of age.

Looking up I see 

Girls’ shy eyes peering at us

Wash dries in sunshine

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Photos: Dwight L. Roth

Merril’s Monday prompt for d’Verse is Looking Up.  Join us at: