Sunday Sonnet: Chariots of Fire

The Sunday night movie is Chariots
of Fire and the room is filling up with
walkers (that is, the aluminum kind),
with wheelchairs, and with warriors who still
walk on their own, at least some of the time.

I check in on Paul who took a fall this
morning. He was there on his side as I
emerged from the stairwell onto the third
floor, more embarrassed than injured. I helped
him into a chair and then fetched a nurse.

The movie room was full tonight and we
softly applauded as actors ran on
blue beaches and the surviving daughter
of Bobby van Epps asked me how to get home.

-----

Bobby van Epps was the piano player
for the Dorsey Brothers Orchestra.
I'VE GOT A FEELIN' YOU'RE FOOLIN'

Half Mast

what was at half mast
now ripples at finial
and the starling gone
123456789012345678901

Sunday Sonnet: The Name-Bearer

T here he is. Is that him? I don't know. I don’t know
his name. I don’t know his name, but this man knows mine.
He is greater than Adam, the innocent one,
naming the creatures as they paraded in line.

But that man bestowed no catness, no idling purr,
no electric fur, no lodestone for the compass arrow.
Yes. Here comes the one who brings flesh and bone and core,
bearing brass bell on his bronze tongue, pith and marrow.

Not unlike those who would gather fire on long limbs
and trek through rain and wind from distant lightning strikes,
or those who returned with brimming pots from secret wells.

Here he comes. Yes, it's him. He knows my name, knows me.
Say it, and resurrect me, remember me once
again. Give me water, bring me thunder, break the spell.

An Old Man Remembers

D

ans la même école

ans une chemise blanche à col 

elle était devant moi 

elle est morte devant moi 

là, elle vient, ma reine,

marilyn monroe

la mer est lin, mon roi,

et le vent n'est rien

Un vieil homme se souvient

I n the same school
n a white-collared blouse
she stood before me
she died before me

there she comes, my queen,
marilyn monroe
the sea is linen, my king,
and the wind is nothing