My Brother's Loss

It’s seldom easy to detect the chains

of friendship as they’re forged in work and play.

Invisible or not, the daily pains

we suffer as we wend our weary way

through life grow smaller when we know that

always at day’s end we’ll have that time

with our good friend to celebrate each other.

We play it in our minds as pantomime.

“It’s our turn now, Mack. Shall we take our walk?”

He beats you to the door, looks back, his part begun.

“You might be slower than before. We’ll talk,”

he says, “but first let’s have our dose of fun.”

He didn’t know that he’d approached his limit

on this plane. He was invested in it.

Al Gordon's Christmas Bee

Kim's pet--Waffles

Christmas Wishes

Does Santa have your stocking stuffer list?

I checked mine twice to be completely clear

that nothing of significance was missed--

My aunt is ninety-nine, a lovely, dear

sweet gal. I hope she knows me when I call

next time. My neighbor has a teenage son

and prays that nothing will befall

him in Iraq. She’d like to have him back.

A single mother down the street one block

has three sick kids, no toys nor healthy food.

She wonders how to feed her little flock

and how to boost her flagging mood.

I’d love to see a Spanish-speaking girl

in class some day, with nursing on her mind.

A PSU course would be fun for her

and open doors she’d surely find.

And last, I’d like to see us out of debt

before our nation staggers down the road

that Greece and others took. We’ve simply let

the life we chose become too big a load.

Post-Thanksgiving Prayer

What He wanted before even day number one

was a huge, happy family to love and to share.

I think God has the same need that we have for fun.

So last Thursday we sat at our table, each chair

pulled up close to fit in, fill our plates and begin.

And sometimes there was laughing and maybe we prayed

to acknowledge the blessings the year’d ushered in

without even a cent having ever been paid

for the health of our kids and the love of a friend,

nor our pets, always loyal and friendly and true--

nor an Indian summer, which signaled the end

of a season of harvest and a sky always blue.

I hope God had the pleasure of sharing your meal

and a generous helping of spiritual zeal.

On the Pervasiveness of God

When I was still a tyke our God, they said,

was everywhere and so I sought to know

how He could manage it. I thought in bed,

in school and play, Him racing to and fro

to be on top of things and hear our woes

immediately and hold us in his arms.

It can’t be done that way, I thought. Life goes

too fast for cosmic distances. The charms

of stars within our Milky Way alone

told me no brilliant architect would build

a world so hard to reach. He’d need a phone

with magic traits to tell us how he’d willed

us into being and shown how much he loves

us, everyone, and comes to our defense

without delay, and sparing nothing shoves

our pain aside before it gets intense.

At last I got it, almost all at once:

He permeates all space, including us.

I found myself at last a happy dunce.

Christ lives in me; no need for travel fuss.

American Bravery

With September eleventh’s remembrance now scarcely behind

and with losses of loved ones etched painfully deep in our mind

all our country’s best guardians stand ready, completely alert

to the treacherous, murderous plans to destroy and to hurt

us still more. So we count on those uniformed women and men

who protect us to be at their best, but we’re quite sure that when

an attack or fresh danger like ten years ago shows itself

we’ll see regular folks with strong hearts put their needs on a shelf

and with courage to spend, sleeves rolled up, do their ultimate best

to help too and to prove once again that we’re fit for the test.