There in the graying
lurking just behind,
its dark presence felt
in the lengthened shadows
cast by eve’s fading twilight.
Dare I chance
a glance back
hoping to check the harvester’s
quickening approach
the scythe’s relentless swing.

.

Was that the last
walking away, so
dreadfully determined
having left so much unsaid.

A pause, just before
slipping silently out of sight
then, a slight turn of her head,
a glance back

knowing  or hoping
you’re still there
standing watching
confirming continuum.
perhaps.

When I go to heaven
I want to see my dogs.
all of them, such faithful companions.
How do you say goodby  to such friends
Peter my first
a beagle, stubborn, a hunter with
the basset from across the street
white tipped tail faithfully wagging
as I returned each day from School.
Then Sampson, a blond Belgium Sheppard
Huge, faithful only to me
jumped the fence too many times
of the church pre-school across the street
wanting only to be part of the play
then too protective of our new born and
at 190 pounds too large for our small apartment
Then  found in England,
Beouf Beouf McTavish
a Yorkshire terrier that for some reason was
four times the Yorkey normal size
He thought he was a lion
jumped into the Canal in  Camden town
chasing ducks. We pulled him out and it
took three baths to clean him.
He loved to attack my next door neighbor
after we returned from England
who he had taken a dislike to
as my neighbor warily walked his dachshund
up and down our small cul-de-sac.
Then there was Boober, an Irish setter,
beautiful, but wild and dumb.
who loved to just run and then
pounce on our next door neighbor’s wife
who seemed to love the affection.
Booper true to his Irish temper, never obeyed
Then our Goldens
the perfect pets frolicking with our growing children
Brandy and Blake, the first pair
Brandy the runt of the litter
gentle and loving
so loved by my wife who always loved an underdog.
Blake the larger of the pair
my favorite, large and bold,
constantly bounding about
bullying Brandy
Faster, he got there first when a car didn’t stop
and lay bleeding in my arms
tears cascading down my eyes
too late to save him.
Then Brandy followed when years later
Cancer and she just stopped
She Watched faithfully as
the vet came to the house and peacefully put her down.
we planted a small tree over her grave and mourned.
Last was Maggie, another Golden,
loved by all, beautiful, intelligent,
affectionate, going everywhere with me
to the dump, where they gave her a cookie,
to the beach where she chased ***** until
I became tired and needed to head home, knowingly
she defiantly swam just out of reach, back and forth,
as  try as I might  to get her to come out, she’d defy.
Now there all passed on to doggy heaven where
I hope I’ll find them when I too move on.
they’ll respond to my call
faithfully bounding across a heavenly lawn
returning gleefully  to their aged master.
“Come on blue, You good dog you, I’m coming too”.

October 1

Autumn’s arrived so suddenly  
her colorful blush upon leaves
soon to fall amid ripened gourds
lying in our small garden
where strong trunks of
brussels have begin small sprouts
beneath giant leaves.

At my feeder, birds no longer nibble
daintily, but gorge, filling for southbound flights
rain beats against my roof
in the now chilling air.

Where summer with its warmth?
Tomatoes too late to ripen, remain green,
bumble bees sit heavily on the few remaining flowers
hoping  for warmth’s returning beam,
while honey bees finding my Cimicifuga racemosa’s
white scented floral spray
busily gather its last remaining nectar
for their winter nests
somewhere in my woods.

And I now out of my Bermuda shorts
and colorful short sleeved shirts
don  long legged corduroys, an old sweater
smelling  slightly of moth ***** to
begin the chore of gathering the garden
furniture’s pillows, turning off the sprinkler
putting away the hose.

It’s time to remove the two ultraviolet lamps
from my ponds water pumps lest freezing break the bulbs.
Koe fish, less interested now in my daily feeding
rise  to the surface in the cooling water
more slowly as if preparing for sleep.
I marvel at their ability to simply
lie under the soon to be frozen water
to await spring.

We humans don’t have such patience.
We gather logs for our winter fires
remove screens and windowed air conditioners
check the furnace’s pilot light  and search among the eves for
boots and scarves and gloves.
Autumn soon to be Winter

His senses heightened, on alert
He drives through this neighborhood
Who are these people, he wonders.
They hate me, I’d have no chance out there
Thank god I’m armed.

One the street, a bunch of kids, teenagers
Laughing at each others jives
Fall into silence as the cop car drives past
Giving them the bad eye.
Just another ******* waiting
For an excuse to take us down.

He returns their stares, wondering
Are they selling drugs, planning something
Or just kids on a summer’s eve?
He thinks of his own son out
In a different neighborhood, safe.

The he gets the dispatch call,
Store robbed,  two black kids
Teenagers, in his area,
Its his to respond
No time for back up,
Only the growing darkness
And a tingle of fear, adrenaline pumping
He steps from the safety of his car
Loosening his holster strap in anticipation.

Down the street a store ‘s alarm is ringing
The kids sensing trouble take off
Two men come running towards him
They’re large, just kids really, but big

Drawing his sidearm
He yells at them to stop,
They’re surprised, not sure what to do
He’s scared, they seem so big in the twilight
It almost automatic, right out of his combat training
He shoots and then again, and again
As the assailant’s momentum keeps him coming
And then he sees too late,
its just an unarmed kid

Police used to walked the neighborhoods,
Smile say hallo or good morning.
Stop at homes of the old
Checking to see if everything was all right
Used to know the kids, supported them in their games
Sometimes even helped parents
Importantly they were seen as being there to help
Knew the neighborhoods and were in turn known.

Now they ride in cars, gazing dumbly
Out of bullet proof windows.
While outside strangers mingle
Often the only contact, violence and arrests
No wonder, armed like soldiers
Triggered by fear of the unknown
They ****.

We need to get close again.
Have them on the streets in our neighborhoods
We need to take the time to know them and they us
To invite them into our homes
Out of their isolating cars
To share our concerns, to close the divide.
Before more deaths occur.
After all these men and women
Used to be us.

'The couch

Last time I was here, we two
She and I, were sipping tea.
Old couch, so old and sad
You felt her warmth as did I
Poor old couch, she made fun of you
As she did me.
But, I loved her and because you held us,
I love you.