SECOND HONEYMOON
It is my mother’s birthday
she has barely made it to
88
Not one infinity sign but two
I see her from behind
standing again with my father at the altar
Tag Archives: Father
A KINDER GENTLER GOD
A KINDER GENTLER GOD
As we look around the world today we see
with God as our father in trouble all are we
Fathers as you know, often have a tendency
towards discipline, judgement and wrath
while grandparents almost always
take a wiser, gentler path
There may be much to learn
as we choose, or create our deity
from the Blackfoot, Sioux and Cree
who still gather at Grandfather’s knee
FAIR BALL
FAIR BALL
So what
if my father
only came out once
to watch me play baseball
He was a busy man
I caught a hard line drive
SONG OF MY FATHER’S SONG
SONG OF MY FATHER’S SONG
I am the end of a long line
and the music plays in my head
feeling the need to sing the songs
of the silent living and the silent dead
To somehow feel and heal each one
right down to my grandfather’s son
To sing the songs of a slow gray man
who runs and runs till out of breath
chased yet by the swift dark wolves
of a long ago young mother’s death
With all the tender sores and songs
and all the stories he needed to tell
cauterized by a hard world’s fires
and the scabs on a private hell
And the part of him that I can’t touch
is the part of me that I can’t touch
the part of me I need so much
God help me to reach that note
God help me to clear my throat
MIKE, PAM AND BAILEY
MIKE, PAM AND BAILEY
Solid enough for a Mad Bear to lean on
mother enough for the world to suckle
Downs baby magic lifts the whole world up
WORTH OF A MAN
WORTH OF A MAN
In my father’s mind
the worth of any man
was tied hand and foot to his work
The day he retired
to leave his ranch and his work
he was felled by a massive stroke
Every time I make enough money to quit
I hurry to lose it as fast as I can
And go right back to work to make it again
remembering what I learned from this man
THE TWINKLE
THE TWINKLE
(Eulogy at Father’s funeral)
There is a thing about light
no matter where it starts it never stops
even if it takes a million years
to get from the twinkling stars to here
There was a twinkle in the eyes of this man
A twinkle of innocent mischief and inner joy
greeting every man and woman
every girl and boy
When you saw it you knew that he liked you
and never doubted that you’d like him too
AND HE WAS RIGHT
Because there is a thing about light
A million years from now
and no one knows how far
they will see it on some star
DANCES WITH HORSES
DANCES WITH HORSES
And what is the poem of Rusty
who slips at full gallop and picks up all
four feet and sets them down sure on the next
dry spot
Of Lady still so afraid of wire she can buck
fourteen hours tired
if a four inch chunk should strike a hoof
And the dance of the wild mare in the corral
who kicks and one foot goes by on each side of
your head
And of the colt separated from mother’s flank
by a gunny sack in the face and a quick gate,
who turns a tight arc and comes back at you, and
you see it in the eyes and duck and he sails over
taking out the top rail
And you hear that your father gave you the first
compliment you’ve
ever heard of by turning to the man beside him
and saying
“The damned fool will get himself killed someday”
FIRST ART PROJECT
FIRST ART PROJECT
It took a long time to pound
a whole keg of brand
new spikes
into the hard ranch yard
A silvery path
paved with shining heads
danced bright in the prairie sun
I stood back young and strong
and proud and knew
that it was beautiful and good
My father thought he had to teach
There was no room for art
in a hard yard
in a hard world
It was a long time before I tried again