When you were alive, I was never alone / Somewhere in the world, there was something called home / And as long as you lived, I would be alright
Loudon Wainwright III

LOOKING TOWARD WHAT WAS
Watching the clock hand
refuse to stop
on and on
through the long darkness
It dawned on me
there was
No more mother
or father too
to go to now
or even a little later too
No more
visiting again from afar
for those sweet reunions
to see what’s changed
praying it was nothing
And for an ounce or two
of heartfelt advice
and comfort
taking part in some tender rituals
for example
Oh so happy they left the porch light on
Or the aroma of dinners
Finding my way up and down the steps

Sighing now from
the dull pain of this maturity
that comes from marching on
With and against life’s odds
Looking back wistfully now
weaving through it all
and
when done to excess
Going a little blind
bumping into things
in the new dark
The shadows that fall in the here and now
even in broad daylight
getting burned and jazzed
and lifted up and
stroked gently
and breathed on and
Picked up and
put down
just like a human
hoping against hope
or like a rock
always subject to gravity
The landing
always a little harsh
A little unforgiving
in this land or that
Wherever I end up
Finding time
to sneak a yearning look
toward what was
Reaching out for a quick embrace of it
SEATTLE OCTOBER 2017