alone and stolen, preserved for the night,

nothing renewed, nothing done right.

pensioned and planned, the road the way,

early retirement, last day.

office hours only, home after five,

up the ranks, no sleep, but alive.



bright face, new hired chance,

crisp gray suit, creased wool pants.

sign once on the bottom line,

forty-thousand for one year’s time.



we must work to live.

on minimum wage,

in maximum time.

paid to live,

for some other man’s dime.


taught to know,

what to ask:

to give thirty years

you’ll never have. 



standard of living: highest,

tears never cried: driest.



beginning gone well, good and bad.

papa, *****, mom and dad.



it’s a boy or a girl!

a real live birth: sterile and white

forty feet from earth.

Despite the wind that’s cold



no gloves nor winter hat



for the ten-year-old.





I lean with the waves



backs broken by her bow



sea-legs and springed stance



keep me dry for now.





The wind whips and whines



chaps my neck and my nose



my hands were warm, too



hidden down, pocket-deep.





But the boy braves closer



than his mother’d like to see.





So my red, tingling hands


should he slip on the deck



are cold and stiff, but ready.

Dusty leather boots,

yellow teeth & smokey hair.

Average looked like tough on you.

Slept with the moon,

friends with Orion,
a good, soft rock for a pillow.



Never gave much,

but never took anything - 

so that’s all right.



One new notch in your belt,
a swig with a cig,

& a song goodnight.

A day in your life -
last day in your life -

now: done.

every tree, stone, stream,

breath, wind, living thing

congealed, composite!

part of her, all agreed

to build this being.

all her life, each asleep

all hidden underneath.



but with the last smile, 

blink & sigh, each element

comes alive.

-----

but not to leave, never

alone.

the earth around

is her home.

sitting in brown cords

in a little red car,
rain dropping from the 

gray sky onto the

even grayer ground,

with oldies

sliding out the speakers
into the cool, wet air,

with cracks in the soles

of my shiny brown shoes

with music in my ears

and song in my mouth - 

I wonder if anyone,

anytime, or any where,

has ever enjoyed rain

and cat stevens

so much or in such a way

as I did on that gray, rainy

brown cords day.

I’m finally taking Dad to see the world,

He’s been before, but not this far,

Not with his boy. He’s so excited!
 


Trees and houses, cows and stone 

pass us by, sitting side-by-side in the train.

He’s with his boy. He’s been waiting for this day.



Quiet, but I remember his thoughts.

I know him better than myself.

He’s so happy to be here!



England, Germany, Italy and Greece,

Holland, Spain, Austria and France.

He’s waited so long!



We cry together on the Norman graves,

Two generations lost, two present.

Father and son, together.


I planted your Oak today, Dad.

I know you will grow big and strong,

Just as before. Like your father, like his son.
 


Earth from the Old World, mixed with you,

will foster this seed, and make you new.

I can see your smile in the leaves!



And your grandchildren will know you, 

When they climb the branches 

That grow from your ashes.

the square clockwork of the heart

clicks and turns, moving the soul,

gnashing and biting, blinding eyes,

spinning inside, despite conflict,

despite reality.