Ode to 68

image borrowed from bing

Ode to 68

“Even while you sleep among the sheep pens,

the wings of my dove are sheathed with silver,”

--Psalm 68:13

In 1968, when I was 24 and serving in the USN

I saw CVN-68, the USS Nimitz, in San Diego

the same day I went to see 200l: A Space Odyssey

during the Summer of Love that I barely partook of,

while MLK and RK were killed by assassins in America,

Saddam Hussein took power in Iraq, 

Richard Nixon was elected President,

the Beatles formed Apple Records

and released the White Album,

Hair and nudity debuted on Broadway,

Laugh-In & 60 minutes debuted on television

while in Viet Nam we suffered through

both the Tet Offensive and the Mai Lai massacre,

and John Steinbeck, Nick Adams, 

Dan Duryea and Red Foley 

died.

1944 was 68 years ago

and on this 14th day of June

as festive flags fluttered, I saddled

that nontotient double digit, shoved

my birthday bit between its teeth

and rode hellbent into the thinly concealed

days of my next year, wondering

what adventures awaited--perhaps

I would travel merrily along US68 one of those days,

maybe I will find out more about NGC68,

that spiral galaxy in the constellation Hydra,

or research erbium, the chemical element

with the atomic #68, or shed some light

on the fact that biblically #68 means

“the mercy of God”, or look into why most police

call signs list 68 as a “suspicious person”,

or find out why most NASCAR drivers

think that the #68 car is lucky-- 

and did you know

that 6+8=14 which adds up 

to the 5 wounds of Christ?

68, at the moment, is fresh and new,

dripping with dew, covered in wax bubbles,

chrome-brilliant, stanchion sturdy,

brimming with hope,

bursting with promise,

and as the annual ride begins

I am very happy to feel the trot

becoming a canter.

Glenn Buttkus

June 2012

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