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.