Flopped in the house on the floor alone
Sullen and saddened wondering
Are the missing near or far away from home

Nails scratch circles into the hardwood floor
Wondering whether the missing will ever return
Then in an instant, a car door, and the realization that the missing no longer are.

Working on car engines and in fish cases
has enabled me to cook
for often
when the process of cooking is a balance between hands and heat

my old fingers
battered and beat up as they've been by the heat of a Pontiac V8 manifold
or five hundred pounds of shaved ice every day for seven years with no gloves

shrug and shake it off
as an old cowboy shakes the dust from his chaps
after being thrown to the dirt by a horse who doesn't realize
how many times the cowboy has been in the dirt before
and gotten up

How many forms of
Haiku are there?
First I learned syllables, now what?

The loss of loved ones has clarified something
it is not that the ache of loss is profound
for it is

Neither is it that watching a loved one struggle
with the looming reality of passing wrenches the gut
for it does

the clarification comes after
the passing
the mourning
the sadness
and depression

the will

the clarification is
that no matter how spiritual we are
or
how much we love those others left with us
behind
that the division of property
most likely equals
division of family

and it is for that reason
that I hope there is no heaven
from which the passed
can look down
and be sad at what
has happened

despite best intentions

in their wake

Standing in the dewy grass
I hope and pray that they will pass
But they may not
but come to stay

I know not
If I die this day

The Redcoats come a thousand strong
their battle line is wide and long
What's ordained
I can not say

I know not
If I die this day

We stand apart but look across
to the other line and toss
a look of nervousness
then pray

I know not
If I die this day

Commanders yell, Commanders bark
their orders all along the park
but then a shot rings out and in
the confusion, it begins

The house stood
on a slight rise just
on the edge of the village.

It looked out
over
a broad spread of West Country farmland.

Not a remarkable house by any means
It was about thirty years old
squattish
squarish
made of brick
and
had four windows
set in the front
of a size
and proportion
which
more or less
exactly failed
to please the eye.

I don't know what the day was like
But I want to believe that it was glorious
Cold
Clear
With the sting of February on the face of a doctor
A father to be
Hurrying his wife
Probably in labor
Down the steps to the car
For the trip to the hospital
Actually the sanitarium in Clifton Springs

Then, after awhile in the waiting room
The news
And the promise of a baby girl
His first child
The first of five

The child who won't die at the hands of a drunk driver
The only one who won't be a doctor
Who will marry
Have three children of her own
Loose a husband
Gain daughters and a son in law
Grandchildren
And who
Sometime later
After the roar of a hurricane passes
Will pass herself
Hiding the pain that ravages her small body
And tells her that she's still alive

But for now
In the sanitarium
In Clifton Springs
Only the promise
Of a baby girl
In the arms of a new mom
His wife