On Death

On my German Shepard, Magic (Massachusetts, 1994?)

Life gone from their stems,
their leaves,
their flowers,
their empty pods...
Browned blossoms, heads bent to the wind
Seem better to reflect
Sunlight's gold.
Magic.

Green grace faded
by winter's creeping shadow
the eagle's wings,
the hawk's cry,
passing spirit on the breeze
Stir these fields
of timeworn slumber...
Seem better music made
of nature's poetry.
Magic.

You ran to me through fields of death...
given life,
the eagles we watched soar.
Our gold,
Our music,
Our laughter... now....
Silenced in your going
Yet beat within my heart.

You sleep with me.
You sleep with me.
Magic.

________________________________________

On my Grandfather, and the leaving of another
(Massachusetts, 1995)

Old Leaves

You spoke to me of death
as you swept old leaves
from a rotting garage.
Words of solace fall upon empty ears...
for I am too lost in my own world...
in my own clean-up of old leaves.
Echoes of hard bristles on oil slicked floors,
Escape me.

We help others move on,
we empty rooms,
pack away memories, wrap the most precious in velvet.
Sunlight filters through dusty windows,
leave patterns on bare wooden floors
Erie warmth in the corners of our minds.

I dared not speak to you of days created here,
Dared not touch the hairballs
tripping along your vacant hallway
Whose were they?

Hollow footsteps fall
with nowhere to cling
Our awkward bodies search
with in longing walls,
of longing homes,
for those now gone, and those going
and those who will stay behind.

We hold these spaces dear
for the lives crated within,
And we move on....
And we pack away the moments gone,
and create lives anew.
Sting.
And comfort.

You spoke to me of death
as you swept old leaves from a rotting garage.

He is gone.

I will wander these spaces still,
Looking for pieces of him.
I will tuck them away.
I will wrap them in velvet.

Old leaves,
in warm corners of my mind.



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