Those were stories that I told
Of shadows and of fantasy:
When I was was wise, and he was small
And still thought all the world of me
But time goes on, and things grow bright;
The truth is clear to eyes like his —
That shadows cast on parking lots
Are nothing —
Like his father is
Value someone who is smart
Strive to be that way, as well;
Look for a good sense of humor
Life without laughter’s fair hell
You want someone independent
Each of you a person whole;
Someone strong, as life’s hard lessons
On the weak can take their toll
Finally, someone with passion
For their family – friends – desires;
And who wants someone who also
To these same five things aspires
I have not mentioned appearance
This might come as some surprise;
But the images around us
Rarely are much more than lies
If you find someone who’s smart and
Funny, independent, strong,
Full of passion, then be worthy:
Love there
Likely
Won’t
Go wrong
We walked along
You gabbling with joy
Your hand in mine
When you were just a boy
In days of flowers
There among the wood,
I took it in
But never understood
Somehow, I lost you then,
But didn’t see it;
Amid the brightness of
Each perfect day
I loved you, but I lost you,
Never knowing
The sorrows waiting
Just around the way
I love you more than life,
But I have failed you;
For blinded by my pride,
I didn’t see —
That I had lost you to
The ghosts and demons,
I loved you,
But I failed you,
Horribly
My youngest son is mentally ill,
His troubles are immense:
He is very bipolar
In its actual, technical sense
He spends the lonely nights depressed
Or making manic rounds:
He strugges with identity
With wild ups and downs
And while he has professionals
In mental health advising
There have been many side effects
From his treatment arising
They say that love’s transformative
To those within its thrall:
But though I’d give my life for him
It hasn’t helped
At all
What’s your most prized possession?
I think about this question:
Facile answers seem self-serving.
I have so many things, it seems;
But for which thing(s) reserving
The highest spot of honor is
Quite difficult, indeed —
For I have all that I might want,
And more than what I need.
Like most, my things become attached
To people in my mind;
Reminding me of times, I didn’t
Want to leave behind
The books of my kids’ childhoods,
The comics of my own;
The snapshots of forgotten days —
With all of these, I’m prone
To live again some bygone time
That means the world to me:
I prize these things because they are
Part of my history.
But on my desk at work, there is
A picture of my dad,
My son and me (my son was six) –
It kind of makes me sad
For it’s the only photo
Of the three of us I’ve got:
It means as much to me
As any ‘thing’ – it means a lot –
For no time is more precious –
Or, in retrospect, as sad –
As knowing now we didn’t know
How little time
We had
The year that my father was born
The Varsity got its start;
And eighty-six years later
It is still a vital part
Of the Atlanta scene – the largest
Drive-in anywhere.
You should stop in and try it
If you happen to be there
It’s strange to think throughout the lives
Of my father and me
That place has stood there all this time
A drive-in redwood tree
