Broken Wing

Last day of the year

Just two hours on the mountain

Our lad breaks his arm

Aloe in Bloom, and Everything Else

Today I feel like I don't have an original bone in my body, and am having a hard time writing an actual poem. But I went for a run earlier and as I passed this patch of brilliant red aloe flowers, I was overcome with gratefulness for some of the things I just don't think about very often. My prayer of thanks isn't very creative, but it's from the heart.

Thank you for aloe in bloom.

Thank you for eyesight that needs only the slightest correction.

Thank you for legs that can walk and run,

and arms that can swim, paddle,

carry groceries and hug my sons.

Thank you for the year ending

and the one about to begin.

Remembering Tim

When I remember you, Tim,

it's through the filter of your brother's stories--

my favorite memories of you

have become the stories he told me.

You policing the sugar he put on his cereal

while he taunted you, tipping just a bit more off the spoon;

your careful, complete assembly of model airplanes

while his, half-finished, were set on fire and thrown off the dock.

The rivalry and love that can probably only be understood

by two brothers born eighteen months apart.

Too Soon

Come on. Isn't it too soon

for that Valentine's day candy display?

Ritual

The walls start to go all coppery

pink and someone shouts,

Hey, go outside and look at the sunset,

so we hurry out onto the deck and--oh!

It never gets old.

Fresh Air

Kids, get your racquets

and let's hit some tennis balls.

Food coma begone!

I Do

for David

Do you remember

the night we stayed up late

and painted the kitchen

drinking peppermint martinis

(which

if I remember correctly

were pretty much just vodka

and a candy cane)

and singing Christmas carols along with Ella Fitzgerald

and the Choir of King's College

while our baby boys slept upstairs?

I do.

I love you.