Motorcyclist

I was driving the Land Cruiser,
And wanted to change lanes.
I watch my rear view mirrors,
And had seen no one.
I glanced over my shoulder.
Nothing.

But rather than changing lanes
That time, I checked again.
And yet a third time.

And the third time, there was a
Motorcyclist,
No longer in my blindspot.
I have no idea where he came from.

There was no rational reason
For me to have looked three times.
I don't think I ever have again,
Before or since.

But had I not, my life would have been
Very different.

Middle School Basketball

Shaquille O’neal could dunk
At thirteen.
He was six and a half feet tall.

My Jadon is almost thirteen.
He is growing well,
Almost up to my shoulders.
He’ll reach five feet soon.

Imagine Jadon guarding Shaq.
As my friend said,
Oh, the humanity.

Tap Into It

I know that good art
Comes out of deep emotion.
I don’t like that, usually.
Deep emotion is messy,
And I would prefer to push it

Away.

Shift

Relationships change.
We grieve the shift.

And sometimes we wonder
What is right to hold on to,
What is right to let go.

We ask for wisdom.
That’s a prayer that gets
Answered.

A Normal Day

Introduced a friend to a friend, saying,
“This is my soul sister here.”
Response one: High praise indeed.
Response two: I am so honored!

Checked on friend. Response: thank you!

Spoke of party. Response:
We’ll skip prior plans to come.

Request: bread recipe, please; so yummy.

Sent email. Response: awesome.

Sent email. Response: beautiful.

Sent text. Response: so kind.

Called family. Response: enjoyed it, thank you.

Sent invite. Response: so excited, so amazed.

Sent text. Response: so honored you will cheer with me.

Received email: want to visit.

Received text: want to visit.

Received email: invite me, even if I can’t come!

Received text: you make me laugh.

Received lengthy email: information I wished for.

My word for the year was
Affirmation.

Wouldn’t anyone be ethereally happy
With a life like this.

Deeper

David loved Jonathan,
With weeping and words
That I cannot imagine
Any modern man speaking.

I rail again against the poverty
Of our relationships.

Thwarted

Caleb didn’t get his way.
He howled.
I put him on the bed.
He howled.

Some time later,
He was quiet.
I walked in to find
Him standing behind the door,
Facing the wall.

When he saw me,
He howled again.

My son, none of us
Get our own way
All the time.

And if we did, we’d be
Insufferable.

Receive this training,
Unpleasant though it may be.