Month: April 2013

Your Jennie

after almost

25 years together

you still

looked at her

and saw her …

men at 56

don’t always see

but we saw

the way

you looked at her

that Christmas Eve

how you got down

on one knee

with that ring

you bought her

how you held her close

and kissed her

and told her

how much

you loved her

how happy

you were

that night

‘cause she was

your wedded wife

but the Christmas lights

aren’t blinking

we can’t see ‘em

from the road

put up now

in a box

behind the star

and the tree

that stood

is bare

and brown

no longer round

and real

where’d Santa go

we’re not done

opening presents

yet

come back

and eat

your cookies

and drink

your milk

it’s not time

for bed

we still gotta

put the toys

together

and you’re

good at that

don’t rub your eyes

we still got time

to wrap the presents

special

so don’t fall asleep

just yet

she needs you

to stay awake

a minute more

and hold her

in your arms

and tell her

it’ll be all right

that you’re still here

beside her

holding her hand

telling her how much

you love her …

tell her that

tell her that

tonight

don’t go to bed

without telling her that

okay

all right

TL

Simplicity

why is it

the simple

why not

the discombobulated

that renders

a king

crownless

that lifts

a bare foot

groundless

and heels it

ask the

brown bird

that lit

on my sill

yesterday

that stared me down

daring me to breathe

closing in on me

his beak

tapping against

the pane

between us

then up

pops his head

triumphant

the twig

waits for

my smile

then turns

and takes off

leaving me

to be

TL

For My Daughter

want you to

remember this

for when

I’m not around

for when

the days are down

and God your only

for lest they forget

and they will forget

you mustn’t

and that’s important

you must know

who you are

in the blades of green

and in the bricks of ice

in the rainy night

and in the silent morning

you must know

who you are

and hold it

somewhere …

in your shell

family and friends

can only take you

so far

consumed as they are

the world does that

soon you will be

7

an important number

soon you will be

70

an important number

and even now

you know all

you need to know

so don’t forget

my darling, my dear

there is more to life

than what’s out there …

more than

coming and going

staying and leaving

you must look

with an inward eye

beyond

the hello

beyond

the goodbye

past the smile

the tear

and find

your 7

when you

already knew

what you need

to know

now

TL

 

“Blue Danube”

there were

tears

on the street

that ran

a river

down

that fell

from

his fallen face

half hers

the baby

baptized

in streams

the blessing

misting over

wept waters

carried on the wind

a white sail

speck in his eye

that ran

a river

down

and flowed

unto the sea

TL

Be

she’s standing

on the scale

still

as a tree trunk

waitin for the pointer

to tell her if she’s

gettin better

up or down

round

and round

and I wanna

tell her

to get off

that scale

and never

step back

I wanna

tell her

to keep pushin

up that hill

don’t look back

I wanna

tell her

what that scale

never will …

you’re here

you showed up

no matter what

you showed up

husband, no husband

kid, no kid

job, no job

no matter what

you showed up

and you’re here

gettin better

forget the number

on the box

and crack the code

internal

the body of being

measured by …

breathing

TL

Clover

is there

a fountain

for you

to toss

your golden

coins ….

one for

your mother

one for

your father

one for

your brother

one for

your sister

four wishes

forth

from a single stem

like Irish clover

in a distant land

like patches

edged along

a runner’s road

brings us back

way we came

TL

Brantley Gilbert

never met

and probably

never will

but I went

to see ya still

got up at the crack

parked in a field

and got on a shuttle

thinking how big

and nice it was

had almost an hour

to think that

‘til some guy gets on the bus

and gets on the speaker

and starts off with “sorry …”

something about a police escort

so we all get off

the big, nice bus

and load up

on the small, yellow bus

and I’m thinking

you better be worth it …

and there we are

sardines in a can

chillin half an hour

finally ready to move

and the driver

decides he needs breakfast

and they’re hollering,

“where’s your driver …”

and a guy in the back yells out

“he’s over there getting food,

see that big guy with the white shirt …”

so they holler for him

and he gets back on the bus

and it actually starts moving

bout 20 minutes we’re there

and pull out our paper tickets

and get ‘em scanned

and soon as I see the stage

I’m thinking

it doesn’t look ready … at all

so I ask somebody

“is Gilbert singing on that stage

or the other one”

and the guy points

to the one I’m looking at

the one that’s not ready

so I sit down on this

makeshift step

and about an hour later

I see this guy with paperwork

and a badge and a blue shirt

and I ask him

“do you know when

Brantley Gilbert is gonna sing …”

and he looks down the page

and says, “5:30 …”

and I’m thinking

“5:30 …”

so I sit back down

and bake in the oven

‘cause the guy tells me

once your ticket is scanned

you can’t leave and come back

and yes, this was my first rodeo

and no, I’m not a college kid

so aside from the police

and the paramedics

think I was the only sober soul

5:30 came and went

by that time

I’m sitting under a tent

2 other acts take the stage

first

got showered in beer

and shoved against a wire fence

‘cause the two guys on the cooler

fell off the cooler

and the guy with no shirt

wearing suspenders and a smile

keeps asking for a dance

“can’t you pretend you’re in love with me …”

8:30

there you are

in boxer form

chains banging against your leg

and I’m taking it in …

my CD singer

LIVE

and it was

worth the wait

but only got to hear

your opening number

‘cause I’m a wife and mother

and the line to the bus

was, well, another

so we waited

like cattle

and heard you sing

from far away

and it was

well

worth it

TL

Ladder

at his

small square

table

we sit

and talk

and his mind

is full of light

pointed up

to the bulb

and told me

it was new

how it gave off

more light

supposed to last

longer

and I ask him

who put it up there

for him

and he gives me

this look

“I did.”

and I give him

this look

“What … but how?”

and he laughs

“With a ladder …”

and I laugh

“But how did

you move

the table?”

and he says,

“I didn’t move it;

I just worked around it.”

and in my mind

I’m thinking

how long

it must of took him

to get that ladder out

and walk it from

where it was

and open the door

and maneuver it

inside

through the kitchen

the doorway

and open it

without knocking

stuff over

and then

put his foot

on the rung

and pull himself up

to the next

‘til he reached the top

and stood there

breathing

how he had to stretch

his arm

and extend his fingers

to reach the broken bulb

and slowly turn it loose

‘til it rested in his palm

how he probably put it

in his pocket

and took the other out

how he carefully held it

like an egg

and fit it

in the circle

and turned it

‘til secure

how he must of felt

standing on that ladder

way up high

changing that light bulb

like it was the sun

in the sky

how it was

something

he could cross off

his list

something

he had control over

something

that made sense

and maybe he lingered

up there

‘cause he knew

what it was like

down there

where his wife wanders

in and out of rooms

and can’t recall

much at all

how she was told

about their boy

how cancer

took his head

how he has

but a day

an hour

a second

to linger

she doesn’t know

they will outlive him

hope you took your time, Papa,

getting down off that ladder

TL

Someday

what of

the broken

moments …

what do

you do

with them

all

do you

have a place

you keep ‘em

or no place

at all

do you

gather ‘em up

and drop ‘em low

or leave ‘em

lone

thinking someday

not today

and how many

before

how many

after

went that way

thinking someday

just not

today

TL

Nevertheless

sticks are

sprouting

wisps of hair

washed in rain

the length

measured

before

the tree

was there

to shade

against the glare

of a silent sun

and a day

that missed

its morning

TL