But I thought that I’d return one day
to show them all a portion of my fame –
but that fame — it never came
though I waited and I waited and I waited.

Should I now return to my home town
there’d be hardly anyone around –
so very few alive from the Class of ‘45.

IIf I did go back
I’d compete for BEST LONGEVITY
and my opponents would be
maybe two or three,

It is possible that
one of them later learned
that there were life boats filled
with desperate folks who saw the same moon
just after they watched the Titanic vanish into the sea –
moon light and star light reflected into their fearful eyes.

It is possible that
at least one of them
was amazed
as I am
how the best and worst of life
flourishes
beneath the same sky
at the same time.

Some folks are not –.
have trouble
getting their acts together.

Those who always
arrive at the appointed minute
can’t always understand
the slow motions of
their fellow man
and are impatient
and sometimes quite judgmental.

And those not too clock minded
are often those
who take the time
to stop and  smell the roses.

I’m the kind of man
whose parents tied
a clock around my neck
then set me free.

It’s been difficult for me
to smell the roses
but I keep on trying.

A little lizard crept into
the circuitry of our AC
and there he died
not privy to the information
that he was in a place of danger.
.
We did not know
that lizards often are disruptive
to the coolness man desires
but now we know
and mourn a little lizard.

Back then he wasn’t called
The Holy Ghost.
That came later
when church folk
invented names
to deal with the ineffable.
I see what I can’t understand
most every day –
the world’s alive with mystery.

As soon as the woman sat down
she pulled out her cell phone
and became quite absorbed.
The man and presumed husband
sat and looked into space.

In time, the waitress came
and orders were placed.
Then the presumed wife
was on her cell phone again
and the man chose
the same space to stare into.

Breakfast was served
but before it was consumed
they both bowed (in prayer, I assumed)
I discerned that his lips were moving.

They ate without exchanging words.
The cell phone was put to use again
and the same stare space was sought.

I watched all this and was able to be
such a careful observer
because I could not hear those at my table –
an audiological affliction I am used to.

One widow and
one woman
whose husband has dementia –
and two happily married couples.

We all saw the same moon –
each one of us with his and her own thoughts
about the moon and sky –
about the world in which we live.

I beheld that moon again
this morning –
and I’ve rushed home to tell you.

After an hour or so
get up, turn off the music
and turn the TV on
and look at
your favorite news program
for another hour or so.

As you eat your lunch
reflect upon your morning.

How fortunate I am to see
the frequent offerings of the sky
denied to folks
who can’t get up
or won’t get up
to view the turning of the world
with its celestial delights
when dawn appears.

As she walked the walk
familiar because of so much repetition
she noticed there was something wrong –
the grass had grown so long –
the grass had grown so long
much longer than her neighbor’s lawn.

So she got herself some scissors
and began to cut that lenghty grass.
That seemed to be
the best that she could do.

And so she cut and cut and cut
until her mother came from work
and saw her only daughter
on her knees and clipping –
on her knees and snipping.

This story has an end
but its ending has been been lost.
for memory discards so much
that it regards as trivial,

But the scissors cutting grass –
they’ll be there, almost forever,