From the height of accomplishment to the gloom of despondency, often the virtues of prerogative are enjoyed inconspicuously. Direction and purpose are selected, distracted from a simple observation, the value of this right, immeasurable, but elemental in our existence. We are where we are in life directly as a result of our prerogative, earning both joyful credit and tortured blame, incredulous to our posture. The hovering bald eagle, wondrous, and the roaming vagabond, those of the mobile rich and the blue collar, all share this same privilege, oblivious.
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AuthorJack has published over 350 poems in his career, many with his own photography. He specializes in a view of the commonplace and Americana. Archives
April 2021
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