Languishing in the Land of the Loblolly

Remember when we moved to South Carolina
And I got old

Learned I was vulnerable

Starting to feel like an old house in the country

All clapboards and tin

Rattled by a stiff breeze

Slowly decaying back into the sandy soil

At the end of a rutted out dirt road

All lazy and wistful 

Waiting for the weather to change

When I was out West the desert sun baked

Till I was all hardened and dehydrated

My muscles able to lift pianos 

Hoist sofas over my head

Work and struggle and never hardly sleep

But that humidity soaked in

Softened my muscles

Soaked into my resolve

Drained my insomnia

And began to wash the color from my hair

The grey creeping up my temples

My beard a field of snowy white

Looking years beyond my age

All of the history of the land

Overcoming my sun-baked exterior

The land thick with so many trees

Stacked against so many trees

Hemming you in and holding you there

Singing entrancing songs in humming insect choruses

There is more than moisture trapped in the swamp

Mist of magic swirling around

The base of the towering loblolly pine

Drawing you deeper in 

Calling you to your older self

Cloaked in the musk of moldering flora

Couples Therapy Trip

Stuck in coach but we are together
And she has a window seat
Despite limited legroom on an early flight
And for the first time in decades we are traveling
Alone and unfettered
As one happy couple
No teenagers left behind causing gray hairs
Even if there is radio silence
Limited financial concerns
All bases covered
The phone does not ring often
And we feel like we are young again
Or at least in love if not so young any more
We two acting as one and arguments do not exist
Just posing of options
Rational discussion
Equitable outcomes
Peaceful
And we have avoided a therapist for another year
Found a solution that works
Weren't really ever in trouble to begin with
But this reminds us we can be more
We can be just us two
And we liked being us seven
Or us nine or ten or twelve 
Depending on who is around
But therapy like this is nicer than we thought
Better than we could have planned
A pleasant sigh between sustained easy silences
Your head on my chest
Quietly not rushing anywhere
While someone else cooks the dinner
For at least a few days

Meeting Elephants in Kerala

Later that night

Fireworks would light the sky

Now was peaceful

A nice breeze on a sunny afternoon

Stepping from the car the sound came

The thunder of rushing water

A deception only

As thousands of strands

Of shiny silver streamers

Caught the breeze and shook

For all they were worth

A peaceful cacophony

I follow Jayram's beckoning waves

And broad smile

"Here, here. This way!"

Walking through the parade grounds

Passing the temple

Into the shaded copse of tree

To the presence of magnificence

A beautiful creature

We are introduced

"He is Jayram too!"

Of course he would find this elephant

That shares his name

He is delighted

We are all delighted 

And we are all fast friends

People and elephant in the shade

The new Jayram eyes me lazily

As he manipulates the pile of vegetation

With his incredibly agile and capable proboscis 

Shuffle, move, grasp, break, lift

Then chew and watch and sway 

I am brought closer

Right near his smooth ivory protrusions

A photo op that I don't want to end

I catch his eye

There is something so deep

In the eyes of animals

A story untold

Prevented by a lack of common language

But some things are understood

Some thoughts are shared

It is nice and relaxing to be in the shade

This food is good

And then just something else

With no specific form

Contentment

Or close to it

I leave unwillingly

Knowing that I am

Changed

Better

Suddenly no more than a breeze

Rushing through silver streamers

Leaving something of myself

Humbled 

So Much Depends Upon an Empty Pill Case

My chronological condition precipitates adjustments

No longer do my veins course

With the elixir of vitality

Vanquisher of all concern

Lifeblood of the young

Seemingly endless in supply

In earlier years

I could eat anything

Bounce away from injury

Sleep carelessly

Run unceasingly

Never feel much pain

And that that was noticed

Never seemed to last

Illness feared me

And frailty was not in my vocabulary

And I still remember how it felt

Sort of

It I wish I did

Because parts of me still try

To act like they did long ago

And the rest of me takes exception

To any such outburst of vigor

By turning up the pain

Stuffing the joints

Accelerating angony

And turning down all endurance

Until I am little more than an ornament

Meant to keep furniture

From flying away

Thus I have become

Despite my aversion in early years

A taker of pills

An ingester of medicines

Attempting to stave off all ills

With tiny capsules and tablets of magic

They sit each day in my plastic green case

Waiting to make me live

For at least another day

But today they caught me melancholy

Because I am journeying

Far from home

And the empty spaces in the green case

Mean I am heading home soon

And I have never felt so much joy

At pills not being in this case

Never looked so forward 

To taking another portion

Never been so excited to sit at my desk

Take out the bottles

And fill up the week of doses

Vecause just in the next room 

As I clink each new pill against plastic

You will be waiting

Thinking nothing of the mundane task

Wondering why you caught a glimpse

Of me with a big stupid grin

Dropping another tiny pill

Into its waiting proper place

Baklava in Qatar

I return to the lounge

At Hamad Airport

Doha

Qatar

Out of hope

A hope to regain an experience 

Of one of my first adventures 

When I knew nothing

And planned poorly

And whiled away

Twelve hours

Exploring the airport

Stopping often to refuel

At the piled offerings of baklava 

Stacked in sticky sweet towers

Myriad varieties

Something like ambrosia

From the gods on Olympus 

Presented free of charge

In seemingly unlimited quantities 

But they are yet to return

But still I try

Because that is the better story

Than boring butter cookies

And dry crumbly mini muffins

With gross candied fruit in them

And it is more crowded now 

And the layovers are too short

To make an argument for going there

Even for a brief check-up

So it lives in a dream

A Commonplace Life

I didn't know the wording you used

To describe the little book I keep

To scribble all of my cherished thoughts

I thought it was just a notebook

If I was being classy, a journal

But this new phrase is better

As you commended my dedication

To keeping a commonplace book

And it is what it is so completely

A place to compile knowledge 

Gather my thoughts

Record impressions

Document my learning

In a common place

The same place

Thoughts gather to mingle over and over

Socialize and entwine and mix and flourish

A defined and reliable companion

This commonplace thing is not un-special

As the current understanding of common is thought to be

It is the better idea

The utopian ideal

Of all things in common

All ideas valued in the same place

And maybe we should strive to be like that book

A commonplace person

That receives and records many different experiences and ideas and thoughts

Cherishes many people and their many ways

Clings to their uniqueness

And recalls interactions as holy events

Reverenced and revered

That person who can do this 

Is commonplace

Because they give room for all

Within who they are

A collection of understanding

A reflection of the best 

They are able to see in all

Missing Valentine's Day

It isn't like that time

When I left for three weeks

And you all alone

With just a few of the kids

For Thanksgiving

Or the time I left again

And the delayed flight

Should have been a sign

Telling me to turn around

Because your sister had passed

And I thought it would be ok

You'd be busy with your family stuff

I'd be in the way

But instead

The correct answer

Is you needed my shoulder

And my helping hand

And me not to be selfish

Those other ones were way worse

And we did get to have our time

But I am still sorry

You have to spend Valentine's alone

Especially since this isn't the first time

That I have left

To the other side of the world

Especially since 

You have to babysit my mother

Probably best to not tell her

She will want to eat all of your candy

And play the lonely widow card

But to put this in a better light

You now have leverage

A more horrible set of crimes

Committed by me

How I left you alone again

Even if it is a made up holiday

Even if we would have just sat in bed

Because who has time for that

On a Tuesday night

But still

This is just to say

I'm sorry I left again

And I hope this apology

Buys me some clemency

For this poor dumb traveler

And his inability

To read a calendar

His failure 

To put you always first

Opening Up on the Open Road

Hard conversations are easier in a convertible 

All the anxiety 

That rooms and walls and still air

Can trap and capture

Causing them to fall upon each other

Each revelation smothering a little more

A stifle and a choke

These are not issues 

When the air is whipping around

And the thunder of the road

The roar of the wind

The growl of the engine

A slight whiff of petrol

Makes only the essentials exist

Snippets of the story

That wounded the soul

And the pain can’t hang around

Wicked words rise to the jet stream 

Barreling over the windshield 

Just over heavy heads

And the bad stories get told

But the all encompassing pain

Has nowhere to sit

Their grip not strong enough

In the gale force of the open road

To hold on and weigh down

So when it is time

For hard revelations 

Difficult discussion points

Sadness and trials

To be revealed 

Find a car without a roof

Go for a drive in the open air

On the open road

And cast those worries skyward

Let the winds take your worries

The road smooth the roughness

The weight of your soul

Easily carried

On four good wheels