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A MOMENT
It is 1952, April, and Iam handed to the woman.I am wrapped in a thin blanket,the tall man is standing beside her.I do not recall this, but thisis how it must have happened,she finally a mother, hea father despite infertility.I do not recall her, the womanwho perhaps never held meonce I exited her body, whohid…
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YOUNGER MAN BLUES
Going through files of photosI occasionally see a younger manwho is someone I should know. He doesn’t appear often, and Iam fairly certain I was neverthe photographer whenthose photos were taken. He is rather short, often seemsto wear a hat, is otherwiserather nondescript. Still, I would like to talkto him, as I suspect we wouldagree…
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MY RABBI (PART 2)
I tell him I am thinking of becominga rabbi, someone just like him,a man who saw so many throughall manner of crises, joyous events. He sits back in his unsteady chair,one he refuses to replace, this onefinally broken in, he says with thatgentle smile that melts anger, anxiety. You would do well at it, I…
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MY RABBI (PART 1)
If you ask why I am a BuddhistI will tell you there are a myriadof possible reasons, choose one,or take this one, it fits nicely. I am in college, pulling my gradesup to mediocre, thoughts of medicinegone, law only faint on a distant horizona master’s degree away. I visit my childhood rabbi, a manwho has…
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MILLIMETER
I would love to work for the Postal Service. I don’t want my own route, and I certainly do not have the right temperment for working at the counter. The health insurance is good, and the retirement would be something to look forward to. But I want one job in particular. I want to the…
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LUNCH
The pelican has remarkable patience. It doesn’t hurt that he knows how this will play out. It’s pretty much the same, day after day. That’s life on the jetty. Once the crusty old man is done fishing, once he packs up his cart to leave, he will dump his remaining bait fish on the jetty.…
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MINDFUL
I saw the sunrise this morningover Mt. Hood, theglow that announcedto the horizon its approach.There should bein the life of every man,every woman, that momentwhen seeing dawnlift, peel back the shroudfrom Mt. Hood causes the suddenintake of just that much extra breath. Publshed in As Above, So Below, Issue 9, August 2022https://issuu.com/bethanyrivers77/docs/as_above_so_below_issue_9
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POLISH
Mother made a point of remindingme to polish my shoes, she saiduntidy shoes are the markof a poor man, one to be avoided. I noticed she never wore shoesthat needed polish, never had waxand brush in hand, and when her shoesshowed wear they were replaced. I learned early not to talk backto her, the penalty…
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A VISION
He loved the simple irony of it all. His vision was failing in one eye, likely might in the other, from macular degeneration. There was a hole in his vision thanks to his macula and geographic atrophy. And being a man of words he knew the best way to describe that spot, that hole, was…
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A WELL REHEARSED SILENCE
Of course there is something I oughtto say, moments like this require it,it goes without saying, painfully. I practiced lines for hours, rehearsedin my dreams for weeks, knewfor years I’d be rendered mute. My tongue swells, threateningto escape my mouth or take refugedeep within my esophagus. Your silence is only compoundingmy anxiety, how can I,…
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an old writer and his words 