love – Shift Key

Haiku 19.20

it was quiet my
eyes closed and when they opened
c’s ran down the page

Haiku 18.20

the rain came straight down
with the sun shining like a
faucet on a cloud

Mauretania

Have you ever watched the sandpipers at Marina Del Rey?
Their little bird heads bob back and forth. The thinnest
bird legs you’ve ever seen move them quickly across the
sand.

All kinds of boats paraded by making their way slowly
up the channel, seemingly unnoticed by the sandpipers.
It was the mysterious Mauretania that really caught my
eye. It was from another time.

I pictured Bogie and Bacall at the piano bar below.
I can see Tracy and Hepburn looking out over the stern.
Fred and Ginger dancing and singling their way around
her romantic deck. I can hear Norma Shearer’s laugh
echoing from the quarter deck.

I could see my dad on the Mauretania. Wearing a soft
white skipper’s cap with a shiny black brim. Sharp
white trousers and deck shoes. He was a snappy dresser.
In my mind’s eye, he looked the same as he did in the
pictures I remembered of him on his family boat going
up and down the Hudson.

Dad during the Depression cleaning the twin engines.
Skippering the boat for party rentals. He, grandpa and
family out on the boat. He seemed happier then.
I never knew him that way. My memories of him were
better in pictures.

After making its way past me through the channel, the
stately Mauretania turned out to sea. I watched her
until she was no longer in sight. I sighed, paused, and
reflected. So many mixed memories.

When my dad had nothing left ahead of him, he moved
to Nyack where he could see the Hudson from his
apartment. I think he was trying to recapture the joy of
life that somehow evaded him. He died there.

I turned and started to walk back to the car. But
movement on the sand caught my eye. Those little
sandpipers were still at it! I smiled at them. Nothing would
alter their quick pace or keep them from their destiny.

Nor would anything keep me from mine.

Haiku 17.20

sleeplessness blurs the
lines between night and day both
seem painfully long

Weeds and Flowers

A weed lived as a flower
in the eyes of the child who picked it.

That is, until it was cruelly thrown
away by the one to whom it was given.

Her wet cheeks dried as she waved
goodbyes to the beautiful weeds and
flowers through the car window.

When you grow up, I hope you will be
able to forgive. You see, my sweetheart,
weeds and flowers grow in all of us.

Haiku 16.20

my thoughts don’t match how
I feel or vice versa so
I remain hopeful

Makeup

There are scars people can see.
They don’t hurt as much as the
scars people can’t see.

You wear them well. For now.
We all have scars. I guess it just
depends on what we do with them.

Time will pass. Some will still
stare at your figure. Others will
gawk at your good looks.

Most won’t see past the exterior
glaze. I thought, “Sexy. But looks
pretty hard. Not for me!”

Can’t you see that the makeup you
wear doesn’t cover up a thing?

As we get older, our bodies wear
the character of our souls.

Haiku 15.20

some things can’t be rushed
no matter how hard you try
like raking the lawn

Dream Dance

Dance, don’t stop.

It was in my dreams where
I saw us dancing together
with mimed grace.

We moved with such gentle
intensity, it seemed like we
shared a single shadow.

Dance, please, don’t stop.

The Reading Fountain

In the park, there’s a fountain with a bronze bird.
The bench where he sits doesn’t have his name on it,
but it should. This is where he comes on the clear
days. He always sits there by the reading fountain.

I never walked through the park before he’d arrive
or after he’d left. Definitely his bench! He always
wore a plaid cap with a snap in front, cocked way
back on his head. And the same sweater.

If I get to be that old, will I wear sweaters in June?
The heat doesn’t faze him a bit. He reads as though
New York City wasn’t there. He reads now as he
wished he could have done years ago.