A poem from 40 years past.

I turn to see my footprints in the sand 

as wave after wave rolls in. 

Now, here I stand, observing. 

And though my footsteps be almost gone, 

they remain, and perchance someone will follow. 

But if someone sees my kneeprints 

(suspecting I had stopped to pray) 

would I have to tell them that 

I’d only stopped along the way 

to pick up shells? 

Yet, even on our knees 

with tiny shells there is great glory

and a doorway out of ourselves.

Puerto Rico, 1979


I have been a publishing writer and columnist since the early 1980s. Concurrent with a career in advertising/marketing/PR I’ve published more than 450 articles in magazines and periodicals as well as over 4000 blog posts and 8 books.
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I have been a publishing writer and columnist since the early 1980s. Concurrent with a career in advertising/marketing/PR I’ve published more than 450 articles in magazines and periodicals as well as over 4000 blog posts and 8 books.
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