Image borrowed from BingAs I am holding my 14 year old Sheltie
while the Vet is slipping her the long dream,
just as the light dimmed in her eyes,
I could only see her running free
chasing rabbits on my uncle’s farm.
Have you noticed wider smiles
on the holiday shoppers today,
even though Bobby Cruz lies
in his own vomit under the freeway bridge?
My nephew entered the barbed gates
of a state penitentiary the moment
my three year old grandson
slipped on his spider man costume
and leaped from the couch into my arms.
My tom-tabby scratched at the back door
at 3 a.m., announcing his need to come in
for the night right after four hundred cats
in China were gassed as pests.
I cherish the wisdom I have gathered
by staying alive, and then weep at my
inability to translate that commodity into
a form our children will understand or accept.
I vote expectantly for my chosen politician
because it is my privilege to do so,
weighing the costs of that liberty
against the fruitlessness of my effort.
Glenn Buttkus
December 2010
Would you like the Author to read this poem to you?
6 comments:
A beautiful poem that made my heart ache with its veracity.
Thank you,
Paul
Wow! Time fer you to sit back and relax. Sorry for your losses.
Roger
This piece reached out and grabbed my heart. So sorry to hear about your loss, Glenn.
I like the mix of hopefulness and despair. It is a realistic view of this time of year.
Glenn,
This poem doesn’t represent your real world, I hope, but rather an imagined life. I’m almost convinced it could be real. Some of the thoughts are yours at heart. Poor Billy Cruz.
Glen - This is very focused: I feel pulled along, my vision directed by the language and imagery. There are huge shifts in scene yet the consistent voice hold it all together.
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