for Rosie
and Milt
From my
cushioned seat on a back porch in January Florida
I am
overlooking the drainage canal on a warm afternoon
Watching
the tricolor heron at the water’s edge stalking fish
As a
pair of glossy ibises enter the picture from stage right.
I get
my camera and walk out to the canal margin
Taking
photographs to take you there with me.
Now
there are two tricolor herons and a little blue
And a
kingfisher chattering in the near distance.
My
thoughts are with you there in that Brooklyn apartment
Housebound
for some years now in a wheelchair
Managing
somehow to be your bedridden husband’s caregiver
Finding
a way to keep it together with a sense of humor.
I am
old now but you are older, old enough to be my mother
And I
enjoy hearing your stories of the times of your life
When we
come to visit with you there for an afternoon
As I
remember as a child listening to my mother tell me about her life.
When I
was a young man new to New York and unemployed
Your
husband coached me how to use my knowledge to help others
Advocating
to reverse unjust denial of unemployment benefits
Encouraging
me through his enthusiasm for the labor struggle.
Infused
with such a passion to make a workers revolution
He kept
the fire alive for the next generation and the next
But you
know the softer sweeter side of this man
As we
have heard you tell of a place in the country enjoyed together.
These
are happy memories to have and to hold
When
events may take a dire turn
And
life’s difficulties become a heavy burden
May
this poem give you a respite from your cares.
