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YOU AGAIN
I have come to recognize the nightas both dear friend and hated foe,purveyor of nightmare and delight.But now I wish that it would stay awayfor my once immortality is goneand for each night I now have one less day.But night always turns down my plaintive prayerand reminds me that I am still aliveand death is…
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JUST STOP
“The problem,” she said, “the reasonyou cannot sleep through the night,is simple and easily fixed if youonly follow my advice for which,as you know, you are paying dearly.”This was what I had been waitingto hear after so many therapy sessions.I begged her to go on, thinking whatI would do with the money Ihad been spending…
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AT GRAVESIDE
It is odd that cemeteries arequite often the site of oration,soliloquies delivered with great emotion,be it love, regret or anger.Often they are paeans or jeremiadsmeant to be delivered in personbut held back until it is only the stonethat bears the brunt of the words.And yet a burden is liftedfrom the speakers for they assumethe dead…
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NOTHINGMAN
So when you asked me whichsuperhero I would like to beI would’ve thought you mighthave narrowed it downto the Marvel or DC universes,or did you mean that I couldcreate my own superpower and persona?All of this matters, of course, for anyperson under 75 and male and manyfemales in that cohort as wellknow the vast gulf…
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THE WEIGHT OF MOURNING
The weight of mourning defies precise measurement,and all of the rules of mathematics fail in an attempt.Grief rejects being placed on scales, there is nevera moment of pure equilibrium, only a teeteringthat always threatens to bring it all down in a heap.A million who are nameless and faceless is an agonyand yet eighty thousand with…
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WASHING OUT
I wrote down the biggestmistakes I made in lifeon the backs of newly fallenmaple leaves, and carried them,a fair number, to the river. I cast them onto the water,some quickly swept up,a few lingering on a fallentree partially dammingthe flow, waiting for this. Most disappeared asthe water approachedthe falls, cascaded overon its way to the…
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OF THE SEASONS
In the heart of winter, then,which seemed unendingI would stare out at the maplesbarren branches piledin ever tottering snowand dream of palm treesand a warm ocean breeze. In heart of winter now,such as it is, all I seeare endless palms andmany Southern Live Oaks,their branches piledunder a heavy burdenof sagging Spanish Mossand I dream of…
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AND UNDER THIS ROCK
There is one thing that noneof the books on discoveringwho you are when you areadopted bother to tell you. If they did, it wouldn’t changeanything, but it is a burdenyou assumed you’d easily bearthat grows heavy with time. What they don’t warn you isthat you will discover yourself,your heritage that was deniedto you for one…
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ROCK AND HARD PLACE
The hardest age by faris the one where you are stuckin the middle, children below,parents above, and utterly nohope of escape from the vise.Things your mother could do effortlesslynow seem impossible for her, and thosethings now need doing immediately.Your children, ever wise at creatingnovel approaches to anything they wantin life regardless of your opinion,suddenly cannot…
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THE PROMISE
The moon has gone past full and as waning as I write, it’s slow retreat hopefully taking with it the burden of winter, that we now must measure in feet, the inches having been heaved up, one upon another. Spring will come soon for a taste of it, for spring is an inveterate tease, preferring…
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an old writer and his words 