When Does Winter's Heart Thaw

When does Winter's heart thaw?
Does one morning tell you, in confidence,
Though last night was still the realm of ice,
The Sun will be back today, so rejoice?
Will that moment come when loss has become gain;
Or, perhaps, a mild wisdom, something we
Can keep in a box in the attic,
Waiting for the day we decide to search?
Time seems to have deceived us
Passing slowly, while we watch, then, when we glance
Away, darting around the corner, making his escape;
Leaving us behind again, as so often before.
Fools of happenstance that we are, we
Hope again and again to have only what we desire,
But the baggage comes with the prize, and
Loss is the last answer on every last page.

The Rapture - Chapter I

Monday, May 23, 2011

Well, I guess they were right. About 144,000 Christians vanished into the sky Saturday.

Unfortunately, that wasn't enough to make a significant difference in my commute. I suspect had I lived in the Bible Belt there would have been. The liberal West Coast was not fertile ground, I suppose.

One of my supervisors, a truly annoying one, did not report to work this morning and has not yet been heard from. So far, the reported departures have proven to be individuals leaving behind rejoicing spouses, children, co-workers and a few governments.

Coming To The End

Hal Foster

My father is dying. Last Christmas he said he expected it would be his last.

He's had cancer for some time. Last year he announced he would not seek any further treatment to stop it.

His attitude is quite unexpected, for me, anyway: he jokes about heading for medical school (he and Mom both are donating their bodies for teaching or research). He seems to me to be sufficiently satisfied with his life that there is no need to treat it's end as anything more than the end of a decent novel. He told me a few years ago that he would have no problem with the Orthodox Jewish doctrine that there is no life after death. He has been taking advantage of the opportunity to enjoy all the bad foods that he likes - he's not worried about salt or cholesterol. What he enjoys most are the visits from his children, grandchildren and great-grandchildren. I have been reading to him from cross-county bicycling journals.

If there is anything difficult for him, it seems it's the mundane concerns of physical comfort and the amount of work other people go through to help him be comfortable. He accepts that he needs the help and doesn't seem much dismayed that he's not his remembered hale and hearty younger self.

To us his decline seems rapid, but that's only in contrast to his extraordinary good health, brought about by what must be a million miles of bicycling. Because of his level of activity he enjoyed a longer span of life and higher level of health than most.

This Morning, Waking Early

This morning, waking early, at the time
you often do, I remembered that first
touch, your hand in mine; I reached out for you,
but remembered you are far away. Your
absence is a taste of life without you.

You did extract a promise that I live
longer than you, not to leave you alone,
I am to be the one alone in our bed
waking at two in the morning, thinking
you had just slipped out to the bathroom, I
make room for you to climb over me when
you return.

Haiku II

Rain wakes me, standing
At the door I inhale, sweet
Air calls to delight

Haiku I

My unicorns run
To play with a new wind
On another beach.

1972, 2010

My Last Will And Testament

When I die don't waste
your time missing me; just remember
how much fun I had.

When I die I want my
Earthly Remains
to provide gainful employ
for bacteria, maggots, sexton beetles,
vultures and jackals. Just drop
my corpse into the forest
somewhere around Mount Shasta.

When I die I want the last frame
in my camera published
in my obituary (wait, not that one
- I must have squeezed the shutter
when my heart stopped - use the other one).

When I die I want all of you to come to my house
and eat up all the food and drink up all the booze
(I recommend the single malt scotch);
if more is needed there is cash in the cannister
behind the toaster. Then play all the music
really loud;
take off your clothes and dance
all around the place, scandalizing
the neighbors and forgetting the rules
of decorous behavior. I'm telling you this now
so I can enjoy imagining it while
I see your faces. And, ladies, sashay
your gloriously revealed bodies
up to the the big portrait of me
in the front room, kiss me and wave
your asses, your tits and your lovely pussies
at my unseeing image, knowing I love you more
for just having the nerve to ask such a thing of you.

And perhaps you will wake up next morning entwined
around each other, slightly hung over, having satisfied
some instinctive desire to remember your own mortality
by dipping, with abandon, into that pool
of touch, scent and sight
of each other which makes
life the delight it is.