My nephew’s got a Summer Bucket List and was anxious to scratch off “Uncles Ham & Bill Sleepover Party” before June had fully slipped by. I’m chronically underemployed and love to party, but my brother works weekends. So it came to pass that some overheated Thursday, the summer before fifth grade, my 30-something brother and I took our 10-year-old nephew to an old house primed for new memories, and stayed up all night (til about 10 o’ clock).

And lo, cheese pizza and Nintendo hit just as hard at 37 as they did in ’97. 

your fancy words won’t bring back my mountaintops
or fill your home with solar light neither

I am driving to visit friends.
The phone rings and it is my sister
letting me know that my oldest aunt
has passed, at home with her daughter nearby.
I knew this was coming,
but each time another elderly
relative dies I am reminded
that we are becoming the elderly
and that my days with my father
are numbered, though I am
so lucky to have him at 92.
Eleanor, his oldest sister,
such a loving aunt, so many
birthday cakes, homemade pies
and hand knitted gifs.
Every trip to New York
meant spending time with her
and my cousins, her children.
So many memories of her home,
of her stories of my father and
their childhood in Troy
or Snyder’s Corners
or at their camp on Burden Lake.
I am fortunate to have such rich
childhood memories of being loved
by those who came before me.

6/21/24
KW

In the cool of the evening,

a distant “coo” breaks the silence,

spreading a presence of peace

throughout the valley.  Yet, over

yonder hills war rages, corruption

crushes the human spirit,

and tyranny triumphs like

an Olympic athlete.  Doves fly

overhead, and are shot down.

People cheer, but the “coo”

crumbles before our eyes.

We lay a dollar in the offering

plate, and sing, “O, How I Love

Jesus” to ease our consciences.

We listen.  Silence.  Guns fire in

the distance.

Last night, I decided
I was done with my hair.
It was too long, too scraggly, and
inching into the crevices of all
I tried to think about.
Whether it was down,
pulled back, or in a bun,
it didn’t matter.
Suddenly, it was everything
wrong with my life, and
it had to go.
I finally learned from past
adventures not to grab
scissors and do it myself
in the urgency of feelings.
Instead, I pulled at it,
tied it up, tucked it back, and
waited until I finished work today to
drive to a walk-in salon in town and
have several inches chopped,
to free my head from its weight,
to take a deep breath and
move on.

Still preening there atop the wall
two Eggs Supreme flaunt cracks
as the Chief Egg sits and makes no call
to thwart this desecration of the wall.
Eggs lower than Supremes regret there is no call
opine that Chief Sup clearly lacks
the guts to force integrity on the wall
and avert disaster foreseen in cracks.

relief of a different sort
a reprieve 
the vastness of all the tomorrows
just beyond the literal tomorrow
is a quiet frontier
much like the desert I visited often in my youth
wide open space
I’m alone and will be too
when I reach the end which doubles as the beginning
newness with a sense of wonder
disdain for allowing myself to linger
pride though, in that I’ve made it so far
conflicting emotions, rambling thoughts
I’m searching for an unknown caveat
a way, which will take me beyond
time is telling, the passing of which the only guarantee
I will look back, soon, and congratulate
my old self for managing the toil
exuberance will follow

Bright,
Beautiful,
Beacon of light
Reached out and 
touched my soul
on a night
that I was
bereft of
hope and 
greatly discouraged

I am so tired.
The sun’s drained me of my youth. 
Now it’s time to rest.