Tuesday, November 9, 2010

Family Story

Here we go. My love and I
slept in.
The cats sleep:
one and one other equals ten,
followed by
winter.
               I look back thirty-five years,
see my body running with the ball
tucked in snugly as I begin to fall,
clipped legally where knee and leg
come together at sixteen, and now
I know why I limp.
                                   Only now
beginning my seventies, darkness
coming on, long winter all but here.
I’ve had this cane all these years.
I was lucky to find it for nothing
when I needed something.
                                                  Manuel
supervised the chopping through
the knot in the solid block of stump
set on the cement floor of his garage
and when my lower back gave out
he told me to go rest in the house.

I went to town: Sunnyside
(not like Charlie Chaplin’s),
Rexall Drugs.
Ten dollars,
January 1990.
O yes, the girl
took my money, I caned away,

hobbled back. We took the plane
out of there. Never saw him again.
He said to Lorene at the beginning
of spring, Let’s go visit them.
He died. Nine years went by.
She was afraid to die, but did.

(16 October 2010)

1 comment: