TO YOU IN THE GREAT BEYOND
I sat on the porch the other day,
Wondering….in the white plastic chair
You preferred because it fit you best,
The one that just won’t clean up now,
Has never...no matter how much elbow grease.
The four plants are on the little desk
Your mom’s Christmas cactus, all bloomless,
The arrangement you saved two years ago
From her grave, the spiky bit all that still lives,
The philodendron or whatever it is
That always looks ready to go,
To that big garden in the sky.
But always manages to hang on,
And Mrs. Peters, the fern, who always loves
Summer weather and is growing like crazy,
Fronds falling over the porch railing
Like a crazy woman’s hair don’t.
Anyway, I was wondering.
How’s it going up there?
Are you having a good time?
I try to imagine, but can’t.
I have enough trouble with reality down here.
Do you manage to get around much?
You always were a bit of a gadabout,
And I know there are lots of people
You were anxious to see
That you couldn’t see here anymore.
And no pain-that must be nice.
I know it got real bad toward the end;
A bottle of ibuprofen goes a lot further these days.
Anyway, I was wondering,
Do you ever miss me?
There are times I can’t get you
Out of my head. I see something
I think would interest you
And start to yell down the stairs
To share it with you. I have to stop myself.
You’re no longer there. Well, you are,
I suppose, but some borders
Can’t be crossed until it’s time,
Until then, I will miss you.
Eventually I had to go in,
The cats were on the other side
Of the door wondering why they were there
And I was here. They don’t understand doors.
So in order to keep peace
In what’s left of our family
I decided to stop mooning around
And go inside.
But you were on my mind,
Just like you are pretty much always.
And I thought you’d like to know
Even though I suppose you do anyway,
So they tell me…..
-July 28, 2012