fleeting figment
of my imagination
I reach across the bed
in the night, shadows across
the ceiling mellow yet poised it
seems,
and Im so quiet, careful,
gentle, and tentative,
so as not to wake her,
touch her softly
on her warm shoulder or arm,
then withdraw my hand again
like a turtles head
pulling back into its shell
after I realize, relieved, that
yes,
she is real and still here
with me in bed,
not merely a dream,
a fleeting figment
of my imagination
which is after all
all that I deserve.
in
this day and age
Its good to be
alive.
Is it,
do you think so? really?
good
to be alive, particularly
in
this day and age
with
all the terror and tsunamis,
cancers, bombings,
famines, and crime,
and
now, on top of all of it - the stupid bird flu!!!
And
today is my birthday
(getting up there in
years) and Im wondering
once
again, why we celebrate getting
another year older,
celebrate being born
(as if
we had anything to do with it),
particularly in this
day and age.
Wondering too if it
is truly good to be alive,
I
mean, objectively speaking.
In
addition to all thats wrong
with
the world, there are my constant
personal worries
piled up high
like
one big grisly lopsided layer cake:
money
troubles, being able, amidst this rampant
corporate greed and
disloyalty, to keep my job . . .
and on
the very top my throbbing, clawing,
ever
gasping-for-air, never-ending
crushing chronic back
pain.
The
answer of course becomes obvious
as
noon:time> approaches bringing the arrival
of our
beautiful granddaughter Brooke,
not
yet two, striving to talk and walk
and
smile, automatically making the world
a
better place to live.
Until
It Happens
You never know
how youll feel about
something
until it happens.
Ive been close
to my baby brother our
whole lives,
but living thousands of
miles apart
and having such busy lives
sometimes you feel the
distance,
wonder how youll
react
to bad things in each
others lives.
But when he told me
he was leaving his wife of
20 years
my anxiety level
overflowed
into the sluice
surrounding
our lives. Instantly the
image
unveiled itself of my baby
brother
living by himself in a
dark little room
above a garage, eating
cold pasta
every day and watching
reruns of MASH
on an old black and white
TV.
ontogeny
recapitulates phylogeny
Dont know why this
concept still intrigues
me so, a vestige from my
early days
as a biology major at
Wagner:PlaceName> College:PlaceType>:place>:
the Horrmann Library where
I liked
to ruminate and study,
the new science building
where I had all those
seminars
and classes with Dr. Yarns
and Dr. Priddy,
the old labs
dissecting and sketching
worms and planaria and a
fetal pig.
To go back in time
now thats the trick
I guess we can only do it
in
our minds, at least for
now, that is.
a
melancholy afternoon
Normally when I
walk along the tracks
and see or hear a train
coming
I rush off into
the woods to watch
the monster unseen,
feel its vibrations
rumbling,
smell its oily metal
and smoky wake,
while remaining quiet and
still
as a bush or a tree or a
rock.
But today I dont feel
much
like playing this childish
game.
Im feeling strangely
older
and weary-worn of life.
I even neglected
to put the pennies on the
tracks
like I always do.
CAROL
Then she says,
right out of
the blue, looking up
at me play-fluttering
those long lashes
of her rich, creamy
brown eyes,
her beautiful doe
eyes, Why dont
we go back
to my room and
fool around awhile?
And Im dumbstruck
and have no idea
what to say.