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This Is How (Poem)
I enter the ocean to rest,
Relinquishing my will to the undulating waves.
I close my eyes as I sink into the deep,
Going down, down, down.
My arms and legs stretch out starfish-like,
The flesh dissolving until only bones remain.
One by one they separate,
Each slowly drifting away into the reefs.
Gratefully I let any sense of self do likewise,
Spreading out in diaphanous filaments.
These too dissipate into the life of the sea.
No mourning. No loss. No revelation.
But know:
The salt currents carry within them our tears.
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Visitation (Poem)
I find you climbing a tree,
Or perhaps an abandoned shrimp boat.
You often frequent both,
They being part of the lonely places,
The dark places shadowed by cypress and oak
Overhung with bearded moss.
You do not see me, of course.
I’m viewing you from years beyond,
To watch you play with serious mien
As you seek out favorite haunts.
Your friends are these swampy waterways,
The bayous and rivers that hid you away.
Even now from so great a distance,
I still hear your voice when I walk in the evening.
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Truth Be Told (Poem)
Events have produced
A perfect concatenation of discomfort.
My body is now aswirl with wild radiating pain
From the mundane acts of attempting to rise
Or taking a breath.
My mind is filled with heated clouds and seizured fancies
With little accompanying surcease or rest.
Yet I do not suffer overmuch.
The foreknowledge of falls, fevers, and failing health
Has been a gift granted to me since a child.
Unsure if these would be my lot
Or if I would struck down by a sudden catastrophic blow,
I did not anticipate reaching this age.
Belying my private expectations, I have done so.
The structures of wonder and appreciation
I endeavored to build even so shelter me now.
And I remember that yesterday you took my hand.
