For Connie, #39 & counting

An early summer afternoon,

Maybe Late Spring

That first glance

Across the way

Later a kiss

Awkward, yet exhilarating

Waiting and wondering

Which led to more

Times together, most apart

Calls and Letters

Visits, when possible

Engagement, marriage,

Jobs, kids,

Vacations, transitions,

Traditions, gatherings

Sustenance and surprises

Moments of understanding

And some with a lack thereof

Crises survived and joys shared

Cancer whispered a possible

Too soon end

But that is now old news

Grandkids, proof of passing

Time and certain future

Hard goodbyes with a finality

That hollows the soul

A few decades and a few more

And still those moments

And those smiles

And trust beyond words

And still more

August Evening

it's national poetry day so i'm re-posting one of my favorites. 

August Evening

sitting next to Connie
old, hard, wooden stadium benches
red paint, chipped, gouged and peeling
she puts on her sweater
I put on my sweatshirt

band plays hits of some artist
we know little of and care less for
overbearing 80's synthesizer
annoys me
she doesn't seem to notice or care

beyond the stage I watch carnival rides
loop, spin and race into the evening
colored lights intensify
sky drifts to darkness

near full moon glows above the trees
growing smaller as it brightens
yellow to orange to almost white

we come to the fair almost every year
it's something we do
we learned this spring she has cancer
treatment, fear, hope shadow our days

we talk a bit, decide to leave
i am ready, but hesitate
how many more times we will go to the fair

merit award 2007 Sue C. Boynton Poetry Contest

Thirty-five

9.14.74 Connie & I were married. I wrote this poem in honor of our 35th anniversary 9.14.09. I'm re-posting it today, our 37th.

Thirty-five

Sometimes I wasn’t sure
we’d make it
sometimes I wasn’t sure
I wanted to

When we started
I assumed we’d get here
expected us to stay together
but had no clue what was ahead
or what it would take

It’s not a milestone,
like fifty
but well past twenty-five
people notice twenty-five and fifty
appears thirty-five
Iis no big deal,
at least
according to public opinion,


Memories made
and more forgotten
seasons of devotion
and trials of anxiety
grace remembered
and offenses forgiven
and much forgiven again

It is the choice we made
the path we’ve followed
and I would choose it again
I think I do
I hope we do
everyday

April Fool’s Day

I am re-posting this poem during this our anniversary (37th on 9.14) week. 

Someone should make a law
That we hold all weddings on April 1st
Because only fools would make
Those promises

Promises to
Put another person first and
Stick with them
No matter what happens

To love
To sacrificially give
All because of a promise;
It’s almost un-American

There are too many examples
Of failure and despair
Outsiders mock it,
Rationalize, and degrade it

Some lie through their teeth
They make the hollow promises
For convenience
To get what they want

But some, the true fools,
Still make the promises
Maybe their youthful zeal
Blinds them to what’s ahead

And some, more foolish yet,
Keep their promises
Not because it’s easy
Or because they meet all expectations

But true fools believe the promises matter
That love cannot be forced
That it’s sometimes found
By two fools

Who learn to laugh together

August Evening

sitting next to Connie
old, hard, wooden stadium benches
red paint, chipped, gouged and peeling
she puts on her sweater
I put on my sweatshirt

band plays hits of some artist
we know little of and care less for
overbearing 80's synthesizer
annoys me
she doesn't seem to notice or care

beyond the stage I watch carnival rides
loop, spin and race into the evening
colored lights intensify
sky drifts to darkness

near full moon glows above the trees
growing smaller as it brightens
yellow to orange to almost white

we come to the fair almost every year
it's something we do
we learned this spring she has cancer
treatment, fear, hope shadow our days

we talk a bit, decide to leave
i am ready, but hesitate
how many more times we will go to the fair

merit award 2007 Sue C. Boynton Poetry Contest

How times have changed

One drizzly morning, she sailed for the farthest tip of South America. He left the West Coast for Japan a few weeks later. They left knowing that they wouldn’t see each other for five years. No rendezvous in Hawaii, just because. No plane trips home for a sibling’s wedding or grandparent’s funeral. No phones or Internet. Letters would take weeks on the journey across the sea. That was all they had. That and memories and commitment. They’d write, send and, wait. Letters would cross; their stories lost sequence. Tenacious hearts endured. Five years later, they returned home and married. They’d promised.

April Fool’s Day

Someone should make a law
That we hold all weddings on April 1st
Because only fools would make
Those promises

Promises to
Put another person first and
Stick with them
No matter what happens

To love
To sacrificially give
All because of a promise;
It’s almost un-American

There are too many examples
Of failure and despair
Outsiders mock it,
Rationalize, and degrade it

Some lie through their teeth
They make the hollow promises
For convenience
To get what they want

But some, the true fools,
Still make the promises
Maybe their youthful zeal
Blinds them to what’s ahead

And some, more foolish yet,
Keep their promises
Not because it’s easy
Or because they meet all expectations

But true fools believe the promises matter
That love cannot be forced
That it’s sometimes found
By two fools

Who learn to laugh together

Thirty-five

Sometimes I wasn’t sure
we’d make it
sometimes I wasn’t sure
I wanted to

When we started
I assumed we’d get here
expected us to stay together
but had no clue what was ahead
or what it would take

It’s not a milestone,
like fifty
but well past twenty-five
people notice twenty-five and fifty
appears thirty-five
is no big deal,
at least
according to public opinion,


Memories made
and more forgotten
seasons of devotion
and trials of anxiety
grace remembered
and offenses forgiven
and much forgiven again

It is the choice we made
the path we’ve followed
and I would choose it again
I think I do
I hope we do
everyday