Two Years

Midlife, church life

Booted to the curb

No one higher came to see me 

After wounding, hit a nerve 

Only some few from the trenches

Gave an ear to bitter fruit

Meetings opened up the fester

Nothing drained but hope

Two years is enough in limbo 

Moving on with plans renewed

Wish they could have said “I’m sorry” 

Would have made it easier 

Than always “working on myself” 

Chest Pain

Ice pick through the chest while working

Trouble breathing, sweating heavy  

The nitro takes the pain away

Tonight, waiting for a needle 

In the wrist to get some answers.  

Camp Squirrel

Rodent in the tree 

Chewing on a nut

Taunting my black dog

From its perch up high

Being the Older Man

It’s nothing I asked for

Simply persisted in my space

And kept conversations going

“What’s new with you?”

And other simple, but sincere questions.

Small streams that sometimes open up 

Gravity fed tributaries 

To rivers of emotional life

For a listening ear that loves to chat

Mom at the Grave Side

Spontaneously 

Dissecting 

Cardiac

Artery

Enough to scare the shit out of me

Mom made it home

Making Ghosts of Sue

When you have passed and live as memory

Your hair stays dark, your smile and teeth stay white

Your voice rings clear, your sayings still hold true

If this is how their minds remember you

When you have passed and live as memory

All cares and worries fade beyond repair

The work you did, the deeds that filled your days

Are shaped by how their minds remember you

When you have passed and live as memory

You drift like ghosts within their private thoughts

They see your face, a little skewed, perhaps

As this is how their minds remember you

A Retreat

Onions and worship float

Across the auditorium 

The sound of hamburgers cooking

Mingled with the same chords, all AGCDE

A joyous sound of blessings for the tongue and ears

 

A Prayer for the Second Half of Life.

Please grant me grace

To form, to mend, and to nurture

Relationships known and unknown 

As I live my life in service 

For the grace already given to me

Revolting Savior

Balled, a wriggling mass

Between black goo and white tendon

Diptera feeding on dead flesh 

Deep and happy to save her blood 

From gas gangrene and who knows what

Fruits

I wanted power 

Until I saw it

Weighing down 

Those who cared

Who used it 

For the good

Of those around them

Taking hits

Protecting

What would grow 

Arrest

The lights came on four times

Before her spark was gone

His blood was starved for air

Before his breathing stopped

She wanted someone’s hand

To hold the ghosts at bay

He thanked us for the help

No matter what we did

Her’s was a fight

His was a rest

The nurses have to drink tonight

To rest and hold the ghosts at bay  

Fingerprint in Red

I felt a pulse

And bruised her neck

A fingerprint in red

Two rounds of work

That broke her ribs

Heart now barely beating

Her blood so thin 

Skin now yellow 

Unnaturally prolonged

She’d spoke that morning

And ate her lunch

She’d laughed about her twins 

Now they’re here 

    and ask me bluntly

Ask the man who bruised her

If anything can save her

I shake my head

The doc agrees

We wait for time to take her 

Decatur Street

The Road Song plays 

Coffee tastes sweet and black

Crawfish and some Jambalaya

Lingers like a bent string 

Reaching for a bit more

Of the note, the flavor

What I was looking for

Steamboats

Watching the wheel churn 

Brown water from the North

Hauling barges and their cargo

To New Orleans and Barbados 

Much safer now than then 

For both Huck… and Jim. 

Don't Cry

I watch him

Almost ended life 

The quiet desperation

Health destroyed

His loved ones

Are now visiting

When cancer is almost done

They will sob

They will mourn

He just wants to say goodbye

And hug them 

Smile 

Don’t cry

Angels and stones

Can't sit down or stand up

It goes from back to front

Deep aching sword of flame

It rules all with iron fist

Pounding my left lower back

My eyes see stars through pain

Nothing works, hospital time

I wake her with the dawn 

She drives me in and waits 

Speaking for me, I only

Say hello and thank you 

Morphine touches nothing 

My Angel holds it all

Through seven dark hours

 

She watches over me

The two millimeter stone inside me

Undiagnosed

The pixels curve and wallow out.

The screen is bad or rez is low?

The colors smudge, but in a line,

Organic in its journey South. 

It takes a sagging turn due East 

Before it rounds the corner North.

Ever tighter ellipses seek

To distract 

From the plot

I'm watching...

My fingerprint on the projector lens!

Third Time Pays for All

Addis then to N'djamena rolling 

Paris passes underneath me

My supplies beside me in the belly

Flying the team both here and there 

Patients waiting and those at home

Anticipating 

Here we go

Midnight Bus to Georgia

Gas station squalling 

A tussle with cops

The kite was crashing

Tube now trailing out

Doing the talking

And me to say good morning

Take it down a notch or two

Let's send you back on

The bus you wanted

But too high to catch

Last night off the ground

With no shoes 

Passed the hat

Sent you home with shoes, food, and well wishes.

A Nurse’s Song

 I don’t sightsee.

There’s not much there to see:

Sand and goats and the French military.

I go to do.

Give my hands, my back, and a few 

Long days to see the surgeries through.

So, if this is my last swan song,

At least I went out with my scrubs still on.