The Last Few Days

I’m finally bouncing back after
the effects of taking my Dose 2
COVID vaccine last Friday. Plus,

I’m getting myself motivated
to go for an implant evaluation
tomorrow afternoon.

The birds sang and the dogs

barked without me hearing
them these last few days as
nausea, fever, and chills

ruled. Little to eat or drink.

She cracked the door open
and stuck her head out, “I’m
taking my bath.”

That was her way of letting
me know that the music
would be loud and it would

be best if I stayed out on the
patio a little longer. Then her
head and smile disappeared

as the door closed.

So I put my laptop down on
the cement floor next to my
chair and went inside to

make a cup of coffee to see
if I am really feeling better.
She was in her chair not in

the bath yet. I joined her
on my usual end of the sofa.
“I am going to take my bath.”

“I know. No rush. Not a race.
It is only a little after five.”
She asked, “Did you check

the mail yet?” “No.” (Looks
like I totally spaced it.)

She came back, “Do you
want me to get it?”
“No, that’s okay, I’ll get it.”

We smiled at each other
and decided to walk out
together to the mailbox.

Of course, we held hands
all the way to mailbox and
back. A slow sweet walk.

She is so adorable and
loving. Checking the mail
was the high point of

the last few days

Oh, and if you are wondering,
the short cup of coffee was
sweet too if the rest of me

agrees.

Tomorrow’s Train

the horn blasts of the noon train
were distorted floating in and out
on the strong and gusty winds

the sounds of this train faded to
the right of where I sat on the
back patio

a second faster train followed
horn blasting through town as it
moved away heading north

It seems that my dreams were
not in the wind or on a train

they pile up in my memory like
railroad ties stacked up in an
abandoned siding yard

birds don’t dream they fly
can you tell a bird not to fly
same-o same-o

people don’t fly they dream
can you tell people not to dream

at this point I doubt my dreams
will come true they could they
might but so far they never have

so I’ll be waiting for the wind and
tomorrow’s train

They Still Are

A swarm of birds, if there is
such a thing, flustered by the
coming storm vacated the
tallest pine one street over.

A butterfly zigzagged across
the back yard a few feet above
the lawn. In this wind it couldn’t
fly straight if it had to.

They never fly straight, do they?

I think the wind gusts up to forty
miles per hour have begun. One
big flying bug didn’t get the memo.
All bug operations have been

cancelled today due to weather.
Take a bug maintenance day instead.
Not a bug or critter in sight. I always
think of my Irish Uncle John on my

birthday on St. Patrick’s Day.

I’m guessing I was about ten which
made his daughter, Murphy, around
twenty or so. Long before I knew
girls existed, she was the fairest of

the fair. Uncle John made me feel
special when there was nothing
special. Thank you, Uncle John.
You are the only one who told me

that all today’s parades were really
for me. For my birthday. Because of
you, they still are for me.

The Bird Sang

It is getting colder and
rain clouds are pressing in.

There was one bird singing;
I thought it was for me but

he stopped.

I don’t have a song today.
I long to sing a song I love.

I will sing again but not today.
The bird returned singing a
new song:

“When your breasts are full
and your hips are wide, you
will laugh and sing.”

I wondered if the bird sang
to me.

Traffic Light

It is a delightful day. The sun
and the birds are plentiful.
The bird songs exquisite!

I can’t tell one bird from the
other. So that makes me a
bird listener as I could never

be a bird watcher. Fifty-four
years ago this month I was
in Vietnam. I had to take a

color vision test. You know
the oneā€”each page has a big
circle and in each big circle

there are a bunch of small
circles. I was told that there
is a big number in each of

the big circles. I flipped
through all of them. No
numbers for me. Not a one.

I don’t know what you see,
but I do know it is different
than what I see. For the most

part, my life is devoid of color.
My life view is made up of light
and dark. Lighter or darker.

I guess I live in the shadows of
shades of gray where there is
an occasional flash of yellow or

green. A few years after we were
married we realized that we had
a color problem. She would point

to her thigh and say, “Do you see
that? See that red area. That is
where the pain is,” as she rubbed.

“Sorry, I don’t see a thing.”

The following week she’d ask me
to look in her eye, “You see that?
It really itches; you see the red.”

“Sorry, I don’t see a thing. I can’t
see red on black.”

So, I told her the same thing I am
telling you. I failed the color vision
test way back when she was five.

It was time for dinner and I couldn’t
resist, “So, you’re black? I married a
black woman? Why didn’t you tell me!”

I think she punched me in the arm.
Then laughed, “Once you’ve had black,
baby, there is no going back!”

I shook my head.

She asked, “So how do you see things?”
I answered, “My dear Mrs. Gray, I take
life one traffic light at a time.”