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EASTER
Tomorrow is Easter Sunday and Iam certain that neither of my mothers,one who had me, one who adopted me,will rise from their respective graves,with Jesus, all three Jewish.But resurrection is not a taskgiven over to women, the Bible says,with its always careful division of labor.And I will stop and think of the Judasin my life,…
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MULTIPLICATION
If he thought about it at allhe probably thought himself akinto Johnny Appleseed, casting his seedand being fruitful in every sense,but some might say he was moreAttila, a Hun pillaging where he couldthen moving on, his prizes claimedthe emotional wrappings discarded.Of course we can never know whichfor some secrets unless exposeddo follow you to the…
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FATHERING
There is a certain cruelty in knowingwhere my birth father is buried, a pictureof his headstone in the National Cemetery,his face as I know it cropped from a group photoof his unit while stationed in New Hampshire.The cruelty is not in that fact, or that I havea picture of the grave of my first adoptivefather…
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WHEN
When I finally found you,when I finally knelt at your grave,when I finally said hello,when I finally said goodbye,when I finally touched the groundin which you are buriedon the hillside across the riverfrom the city where you were born,a Jewish girl in West Virginianot long removed from Lithuania,when I said my farewell that morningknowing I…
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WHAT ISN’T LEFT BEHIND
When a poet dies they will be mournedby those who loved them,those who admired them.Obituaries and eulogieswill be offered, tearswill be shed and memorieswill begin to slowly fadeafter the short possiblesale spike has run its course.I am no differentthan all of the other mournersbut I take an extra momentto mourn all of the wordsand the…
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GAZING
She says that for a small fee shecan guide me through my prior lives,introduce me to former loves, let mewatch the battles in which I fought,shield me from scenes of battlein which I died or was wounded.She says I will see many I now knowin my present, recognize how wewere once connected so our presentconnections…
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NIGHT WALK
I walked the cityin the heart of the night,streetlights casting the shadowsof ghosts of those long goneto bed, unknowingthat the city has beengiven over to ravening windsthat find no shelter.I step into an alcoveand the fading lightof the flickering bulb overheadurges me to move onlest she bury mein the darkness of her grave.By day, this…
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STILL MOURNING
I think about you often, lying besidemy grandparents on the hillsideoverlooking the Kanawha River,bathed in the utter silencethat only the dead can clearly hear.I think of you more often than shewho replaced you, she who laterreplaced me with her own, Ian adjacency, still useful butno longer fully or truly valued.I think of you lovingly, knowingfor…
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A GIFT
As your birthday approaches, Mother,I should pause and thank youfor your bequest of grace, a gift youleft me on you passing ten years beforeI found you, found myself again.It was more than the helical part of methat finally became apparent, morethan a heritage imagined but unknown.It was something as simple asa college yearbook picture, for…
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STILL MOURNING
I think about you often, lying besidemy grandparents on the hillsideoverlooking the Kanawha River,bathed in the utter silencethat only the dead can clearly hear.I think of you more often than shewho replaced you, she who laterreplaced me with her own, Ian adjacency, still useful butno longer fully or truly valued.I think of you lovingly, knowingfor…
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an old writer and his words 