Fifteen . . .

Ode to Jerry

by Stormcat

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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