A Visit

darkness and strong winds
preceded the storm as

the trees turned into dark
silhouettes and the

temperature dropped

debris flew off the roofs of
houses nevertheless the

rain held back but not for long

as I remembered a piece of
my childhood about thunder

who told us that thunder is

the sound of Rip Van Winkle and
his men playing ninepins in the
clouds above the Catskills

if my father told us I wouldn’t
believe him and if I laughed
I didn’t know why

I know now

probably nervous to death
with fear constant fear

my hope for them is a brief
visit and speedy return to
the Catskills we visited

a visit
I can no longer remember

from a childhood I rather
not remember

Rip excluded

But Not for Me

the wind is moving sweetly
from a tree here then over
there dropping a whisper

here then over there but
not for me like the song
of the same name

even so a gentle breeze
touched me to remind me
that hope is never lost

only momentarily forgotten
but always within reach of
a believing heart and mind

there was a time when I
thought that hope was for
everyone else but not for me