rededication

Grandmother,

How I've missed

the simple talks we'd have

About the meaning of words

And the glistening of fire

you told me once, but

I forgot, forgive me.

Grandfather,

How I've missed

watching your strong arms,

Hands grasping about tools,

and the making of the fire

you taught me once,

but I forgot, forgive me.

I shared a kiss,

of fire, not of passion.

Fire meant for the head,

and spread it did, around and throughout,

across a summer, bright and fertile,

But I forgot, forgive me.

I hold myself responsible

for words my grandmother entrusted me,

for deeds my grandfather tutored me,

for promises devised from a kiss

on lips which since have flown.

They were forsaken.

They were forsaken.

And my suffering has multiplied,

But in it I have REMEMBERED

The Protector of the Truth. I remember,

I remember and rededicate myself

to that lofty cause.

My heart, my light, my mind.

I have returned grandmother, grandfather,
as your champion.

hug her up goodbye

Hard to write, harder to edit, hardest to watch. Circa 2006. To Edna & Martha, who I watched into decline.

* * *

Self-baked lipstick- cake-dried flesh
marred and brown, polluted,
thin-skinned and bound in mystery-

a witness strong, to steel you firm-
raw hands that reach, desperate,
convinced of some nobility-

I view you lying, covers tossed-
waning moon, sin-scarred voice
in whispered rasp, a victory-

a mark of stark lucidity -
a purpose found- each exhaust
contrasts your lithe fragility-

each smile the last that I might see-
thoughts confound, stealing grace,
profound depths of docility-

sliver of light from closing door
dances past cross pebbled drive-
catch breath at night's agility-

a salty taste- flow starts slowly,
glancing back, a mother's face-
the theft of rude debility.