Saturday, July 25, 2009

Succession




An older man shifted in his chair and looked to the younger
His beer filled cup listing toward the left
Spilling for the fourth time in the sand
He mumbled messages that decayed in the onshore breeze.
Memories merged and poured out
Adding to the pool at his feet.

The second of these men
Rose from a crouching position to stand -
Facing into the wind that whistled in his still-wet ears.
He opened his deep blue coat
Accepting the wind and sun on his chest
Filling with the fresh whip of autumn by the lake
His face said ‘Let me get started’

Neither man, even while witnessing the other's shadows,
Noted out loud that light, too, would return -
Neither spoke of the soft chill that swept between-
Or that gems and stones, once held tight, that would have to drop -

It was as it was in the beginning.

July 25, 2009

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