CUL-DE-SAC

We came for cherry blossoms in the Japanese garden.

March brings chilly air and then begs our pardon

For the strong winds that rustle the tops of tall trees

While the white and red flowers attract tourists and bees.

Cherry blossoms make us think of Japan and such places

Gravel paths show the way and the flowers are graces.

Wisteria hangs from a pergola’s tall cover

Flowers caste their sweet scents, I match pace with another

Who walks slowly. Speaks softly and builds our relation.

I came here to meet her with great expectation

That she’d know me and trust me so we could meet alone.

We take turns telling secrets. Eat lunch and head home

I hold her once more, take my leave but she stays.

Cherry blossoms will be there for several more days.

I fell, tore my hand on the way to the game at the school,

My now bloody hand that I wrapped with concession stand napkins.

We entered the arena where everyone watched as the boys,

They ran down the court with a ball that darted between them.

And the wall to wall crowd swayed in place and it moaned with each ball tap

And mishap, the object of putting it into the hole.

That hole in the hard orange circle that is like a charm

And the ball that they held like the body of Christ in their fingers

Then lifted it into a great graceful arc so it entered

The hole and was caught oh so gently by ropes that were white

And the arena would thunder with a rapturous call to the team.

My hand, it still bleeds like our saviors stigmata in a room

Full of rabble that cheer most profane in a temple of scorn

‘Til a boy lifts the ball to the sky, and it’s stuffed in the circle.

The hall thunders more ’til we leave for our cars in a bunch

Moving slow. Now the service is done and maybe we won.

A darkness descends on the shore of the bay

Orange light is a wall on the western horizon

And the moon shows a slice of its circle. It’s risin’.

The concert shell by the water is bathed in blue light

And the white-studded towers downtown are in sight.

There’s no seats for a show. Few souls dot this place.

They came here and lingered for reasons like mine.

They got stuck. Lost their way or they lost track of time.

She and I walk by the water. We’re not holding hands.

We can’t drive the car ’cause the steering wheel’s locked

We call for a ride. Look for reasons to talk.

Then we hear him and see him by the lip of the stage

With his amp and his mic he sings pure as a bell

We hear gospel and love songs beneath the blue shell

The light’s dim. He looks small and he fades in the dusk.

But that scene and its peace right the wrongs of the day

When we argued and cried. Didn’t know what to say.

We and others applaud as he packs his guitar

Now the spell cast is silence. We wait for the car

And feel lucky for life, things we didn’t see coming,

Like when God put us here with the shell and the moon.

The lights of a city dot the hills in the night.

Her party’s on a terrace, a little outdoor stage

And those sparkling homes are spectators to a joy that may

Vanish when this moment becomes a note in my past.

A crescent moon drifts across the sky and a

Halo of clouds holds it in an embrace as she smiles

And we dance on our stage in the dark where old heartaches

Are banished. They vanish for now as the lights in the hills

Look on, and our partner the moon takes its time in the sky.

I’m in a work building. Don’t know how I got here.

My pant leg’s rolled up like I’m up on a bike.

I think I got lost but that’s not what it’s like

‘Cause time just got paused and the past? Out of sight.

When your memory’s a fog who knows where you are?

But it was that damn dog, from behind a parked car.

Did I crash? Swerve to miss it? Next I’m in the ER.

Got a lump on my head ’cause it came out of nowhere.

In a hospital bed I say Yeah, here’s the story.

The dog’s in my way and that shit made me lose it.

My dream of amnesia was real. Didn’t choose it.

And I did find my bike, two days locked to a rack.

Did that while I dreamed so I did get it back

Though I’ll never get back that hour that I lost

But the story’s pretty good and it came at no cost

‘Cept a knot on my head and one crazy daydream

So that’s what I say despite what it may seem.

The low evening sun aims its beams at the mountaintop

After we climbed to the peak to see a full moon.

But the west is still a band of orange twilight with a gently glowing sun

Which began as a circle then narrowed

To a thin wafer on the shelf of the horizon

Then dipped and vanished like it sank in the ocean.

And the full moon climbs in the east above

The pinpricks of city lights, getting higher and brighter.

The moon turns white as a wiffleball as we take the trail downhill.

They turn on their headlamps but I leave the group and turn mine off

So the moonlight can be my guardian and show me through the sage

And the stones until we meet at a bar and drink cold beer and

Talk about the things we saw on a mountaintop at moonrise.

I walk to the kitchen when I get out of bed.

It’s the pulse in my life. It’s another day spent

You feel the time passing and you know where it went.

I’ve seen changes in people and changes in places.

Some children grew strong. Some old folks got lame.

And what about me? I feel about the same.

Can still walk up a mountain and reckon life’s puzzles.

Some people do smile when they see it’s your face

You still love most people and you’re not in a race to be

Famous or mythic. I’m just here and that’s fine.

Today is my birthday and I don’t really mind.

I’ve had them a lot. It’s just a new day.

But if you wanna tell me, Good Luck! That’s OK.

What does it look like when you die?

Your life is a movie that just turned to black.

But not like the nighttime

When bugs sing and birds cheer

There’s no shape in your sightline

There’s nothing to hear

Our minds can engineer magnificent tools

Imagine great beauty. Faith, logic and rules.

But you can’t think about nothing.

You can’t see pure darkness.

Death has no thoughts. No hopes. No despair.

It’s not a long sleep. Not a dream or nightmare.

Death ain’t a mountain and death ain’t a pit.

I swear. I just can’t picture it.

Her eyes get smaller when she smiles

And she has driven several miles

Where we can talk about our new lives.

She’s divorced like me.

A son and daughter like me.

But it’s hard to see

If they are new lives

Or the same old pond that ripples when

You see a hope of love but then

Your chances aren’t but one in ten!

Your life’s a lake that’s far too deep.

The things you carry won’t lay down

The things you own will not pay down.

And now those eyes are hidden by shades

As my Asian woman fades

Too real and too far away to be found.

I got a call from her old folks home. My mom fell again and had to go to the ER at Scripps Mercy.

Now, a week and a half later, her dog has moved into my house while mom has moved into a rehab center, following surgery on a broken hip.

Mom has seemed indestructible but even she might not bounce back from a hip fracture. She had just moved into assisted living at the beginning of the year and she’s been sliding downhill quickly since then.

Her sight and hearing are bad. Even before the injury she could barely walk with a wheeled walker. And her senility means she may or may not remember who you are.

We outlive our bodies and our minds. Modern technology and modern medicine can keep us alive. But it can’t preserve the person I knew when both of us were younger.

I also watched my father turn into somebody I no longer recognized. Is it wrong to wish for a parent’s death?

It’s something I’m still ashamed to admit but I felt great relief when my father died at age 93. Now my mother is 96, and the experience of both of my parents makes me wish I don’t live to be that old.

Don’t get me wrong. I want to live to be old, if I haven’t done it already (I’m 63). But what if I could live to be 86 then die of a brain aneurism? You know. Something pretty quick and painless.

My mom was strong-willed all her life and I’m not surprised she’s been tough enough to make it this far. But will she ever get out of bed and back on her feet? Will she ever move back into her apartment and be able to take care of her dog?

I don’t know. And at this point I’m not sure what to hope for.