Some summer reflections...
Composite
Water blue,
Sky too,
Greens true,
Sun bright,
Waves white
Splashing on the rocks
And Forget-Me-Nots
Along the shore,
The tiny signature.
Weaning Us
You cry because you want something
I can't give you
And I feel sad because
I want to give you something
I should not.
I kiss you and hug you,
Distract you with toys
And milk from a cup.
You smile.
We'll get through this weaning process
And we'll share other joys,
I promise.
The Path
A path is comforting,
A sure thing.
When you're on one
You know you're going somewhere,
And even if you don't know its destination,
You feel sure you'll know when you've reached it.
The path will open up
And there you'll be,
Not lost.
Our path leads from the waterfront
To the backyard clothesline.
I remember when my sister first read this last poem, she didn't get it. "What was that?" she asked. So if you didn't get it, you are not alone, but I include it because I still like it. It reminds me of our family's place on a lake in Michigan where we spend a good part of our summers. It is supposed to be a little humorous---such a short, rather insignificant path, following all that truthful musing.
When September rolled around, I had something much more serious on my mind...
9/11/02 or A Year Later
What will happen
To the firemen,
Who led people to safety,
Who lost people,
Who lost safety,
Who lost brothers, and fathers, and sons,
Who wept,
Who returned,
Who dug for survivors,
Who found too few,
Who returned again and again,
Who sifted through dust and ash for remains,
Who found too little,
Who accepted dust and ash for the remains of many.
Pray God, forbid
Nightmares of human rain,
Flashbacks of fear, of pain,
Of roaring motion,
Of chaos,
Of pieces, and powder, and ash,
Of fallen friends, and funerals, and mourning.
God save the firemen.
Please, God,
Save the firemen.
No comments:
Post a Comment