Before They Put the Barriers Up

Before they put the barriers up,
let us go down to the beach again.
You will smell something invisible;
I will think indefinite thoughts.
Down the narrow reach of sand
between the wall and sea,
we each will seek.

September 30 2009

Things of Constant Worth

Things of constant worth are these:
parental diligence
kindness in adversity
remembering to fold laundry
rubbing his old ears each morning
being there
knowing that a puzzle may be refused
continuing to look for God
admiring intelligence only just so much
and grasping loosely in one's open hand
the strings and echoes of this green and vibrant world.

With these you may be present in many hardships and take
no lasting injury.

September 25 2009

These Days Prepare Our Minds

These days prepare our minds for sleep.
By the brightness of the brick
or sunlight's fall on tar,
we are not misled into summer.
Indeed, we read it in the quiet streets
and the subtle chill that hides behind
heat's plausible facade:
The longer days are over;
dress your children warmly,
prepare your home and wait
for winter's celebrations in the dark.

September 16 2009

If the Next One's Mine

Now that we're all soldiers
if the next one's mine
I know you'll understand
why it's okay.

When the blood has been collected
and the money all disbursed,
what's left for us to do but take our battle stations,
in traffic jams and kitchens,
cubicles and cabs,
milking sheds and senior homes,
and classrooms for the young?
Front lines all,
and all across the country all
are drafted to this cause.

And some would even say they're glad,
the way the disused sword is glad
when the armorer finally takes it up
to give it a useful edge;
since now our long futility
at least for now is done:
At last we have a goal,
unwanted but worth dying for;
at last we know our mission.

And even if I am not glad,
if I, like you, had other ends in mind,
there's still a consolation I can find
in knowing that the ultimate goal is served,
as each life strengthens my conviction
that we will prove with justice on the enemy
that war is not the way.

Now that we're all soldiers
if the next one's mine
remember this, with me:
No one dies in vain.

October 12 2001

Labor Day

The last of the produce is coming in;
a laughable crop in all,
consistent with our care and not seriously to be regretted.
A laggard half-green tomato here,
a cucumber swollen with forgetfulness
retrieved from beneath a stiffening leaf,
and the hysterical, half-parched basil,
nervously bursting into flower at the thought
that though we say we prize it
still we do not pick or pinch it back.

Today we are out walking,
harvesting the remnants of the summer;
a few weak sheaves of sunlight,
a precious bit of warmth beneath the breeze
to ease old faithful canine bones.
Ahead we see hurrying on the season
flowing over the bending grass,
like the children running into their future and
outpacing loving us.
If we are wise, we will notice the reddening leaves
disregarded in their flight,
and see in them the early springing into life
of life's next yield,
sweet respite till the spring.

September 9 2009