They boarded the train at 103rd,
two friends,
who found a spot
in the nearly empty car
to sit together,
talking,
joking.
After a few moments,
one pulled out a book and
began to read –
carefully,
slowly,
clearly,
reading to the other
reading for the other
every word of
Self-Reliance.
31 July 2011
Shire on the Hudson
Filed under Poem
Dark hair curls appear from underneath the Yankees cap
pulled tightly down on his head.
He stares at a point beyond the escalator as
his left hand cradles his gloved right hand.
Tensed, ready,
he sees not the crowd but
watches and waits.
For a long fly ball?
A long departed ghost?
A long lost love?
27 July 2011
Shire on the Hudson
The aches of the day
into the mattress seep;
upon my body
sleep does silently creep.
23 July 2011
New York, NY
Filed under Poem
A poem prayer for our sisters and brothers in the Horn of Africa:
O God,
the ground is parched,
the food is limited and costly,
and your children, our brothers and sisters,
hunger, sicken, and die
in the Horn of Africa.
O God,
strengthen our sisters and brothers who hunger;
comfort our brothers and sisters who grieve;
accompany our sisters and brothers who leave their homes.
O God,
we give thanks for aid workers who
distribute food and water,
create and maintain camps for refugees and displaced persons,
and extend caring hands.
O God,
touch the hearts of people and nations,
fill us with a desire to reach out to the people in the Horn of Africa,
show us effective ways to respond to our brothers and sisters.
O God,
help us structure our living so that
all people in all places
might have enough of the abundance you provide
even in times of drought and hardship.
Inspire us and guide us, we pray in Jesus’ name. Amen.
Filed under Poem
It came to pass, when the weather was right
and the air traffic patterns were appropriately tight,
that the trail from ATL to LGA did make
a pass o’er CLE and the lake.
Where goes the trail, we may not know:
as it twists, it turns, it bends.
Along the trail we follow though
we see not where it wends.
19 July 2011
DL 485
Filed under Poem
The eyes of the child in 29A grew wide as
turbulence buffeted the plane on its approach to ATL-
wind gusts pushed it from side to side and up and down.
The face of the child in 29A turned pale as
the plane finally hit the ground with
a thud,
a thunk,
a thump.
The gasp of the child in 29A could be easily heard as
the plane fishtailed down the runway
before slowing to taxiing speed.
The mouth of the child in 29A smiled, slightly smiled, as
the woman in 29C said,
“I told you we would be OK.”
The ears of the child in 29A did not hear as
the woman in 29C turned and said ‘cross the aisle:
“That really was pretty rough.”
“We’re walking away,” said 29D.
“Any landing you walk away from is a good landing.”
“Amen,” added 29E.
The hands of the child in 29A, as
the plane neared the gate,
began to torment his brother.
19 July 2011
DL 1716, DL 485
Filed under Poem
They lose their fight to hold back tears
as they struggle for the words to say goodbye.
An awkward final embrace, then
a flight attendant gently takes the child’s hand.
At jetway entry, the child turns.
From under a mop of yellow curls,
red-rimmed eyes look where the father stands.
Brave waves exchanged,
the child continues toward the plane.
The father steps to the window,
presses his hands, leans his forehead.
To support himself?
To try to pass through the glass?
Condensate forms underneath his nose.
He stares at the plane as passengers embark.
The jetway retracts,
the plan backs away.
Until it disappears from view,
the father’s fixed gaze follows.
Then, and only then,
he slowly turns,
rubs his eyes,
and leaves the gate.
Alone.
19 July 2011
Gate C38
Denver International Airport
Filed under Poem
As it so often does,
the Trail turns toward the east –
into the risen sun.
Behind red rock canyons lie;
canyons made of steel loom ahead.
19 July 2011
Denver International Airport
Filed under Poem
Unbidden,
a thistle grows in the yard,
a sturdy, prickly weed.
Unasked,
its green and purple hues
reveal
a simple mystery:
life,
death,
life to be,
triangle of eternity.
16 July 2011
Ghost Ranch, 2011
Blank pages yet to fill,
words to write,
plans to make,
notes to take,
tales to spin,
life to live.
16 July 2011
Ghost Ranch, NM
Filed under Poem
Along the Graybeard Trail 