Ode to Jerry
Updown - the hollow feeling one gets encouraging the old man in
the hospital to get well while asking him questions about what he
wants in his will.
The hawks came again three days before the hurricane . . . each
circling high in the sky overhead. Reminding me of my need to
soar alone before I take on the responsibility of yet another. Lines
crossing lines creating illusory shadows perceived only in my, the
observer's, eye, moving in ever changing patterns as I sway. The
effect is comforting albeit mesmerizing.
I exit my loft bed where I languish alone and move quietly outside
into the midday sun's heat. Schlieren lines float steadily off the metal
roof behind me, mixing with the cool forest air and contrasting the
moistness of the willow by the pond. How dare he die before I
finished my work. Didn't he know that I was going slow in order to
keep him living. What am I to do now, pray for his soul . . . Ha! I
have no influence in that realm.
It might be something good though. He suffered such a painful
rejection from his "one true love!" I suppose he felt useless in the
end, stripped of pride and dependent on the goodness of others.
A strong hearted soul can only live that way for so long. So now
he passes to the land of good strong hearted souls . . . no more
anguish, no more pain, no more loneliness in the midst of crowds . . .
I'm sorry this is such a short disorganized ode but I only knew him
in the end of his tumultuous life. . . I imagine him when he was in
his prime. Simultaneously tough and kind! The consummate provider.
Father and friend! One of the gentle people to grace the world. A
man that, however short the time, I feel privileged to have known.
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