Remember
Here they come
Laughter leaves alone
Through the back door, but nobody cares
Today she knows, and tomorrow forgot
How she got here, where she got lost
Or will they?
But the chill fades now
Summer sun whistles
And ivy climbs Colonel Mac’s granite legs
Remember all that hope
We threw out with the dishwater
Eighteen then, who would have known
Twenty-two is not that old
But it feels ancient beyond reckoning
How did I get here? Am I still lost?
My map is missing the key
But the locksmith is gone fishing
In the park with the ivy and Colonel Mac
The fish know his schedule
They wont be fooled
By the rubber worm with its siren’s call
Here I open Pandora’s box
But nothing is inside
Except two tickets to a Giants game in 1968
And an old book
“How to Survive an Atomic Bomb”
With a rocket and a big red star on the front
School lets out across the street
Children running and wrestling
Down sidewalks and through the back shortcuts
Into the woods
I know what they’ll see
The old tire swing we used to swing on as kids
And a dirty old sofa
That we pulled into the tree house
That dad built us when we were eight
There is a trail there that leads to a pond
Where Adam caught a snapping turtle one summer
And it floods after a thunderstorm
It will be warm again soon
Thank the Lord
People need some green from time to time
But we make the best of all situations
If you can’t laugh at life, you’re in deep trouble
My father used to say. Or did I imagine it? Oh well
The mailman just dropped something in a puddle
I think
But he is wiping it off with his sleeve
A woman meets him at the door and they speak
Before a departing kiss
Scandal? I wonder, or maybe he just lives there
I haven’t had a kiss in a long while
But these things seem longer than they actually are
It might have been yesterday
When you feel that puff of breath
Anticipation on your skin
Everything else seems so inconsequential
But the sun still sets
Oddly enough
Isn’t the world supposed to stop for romance?
Where did those dear ones go,
What distracted me while they disappeared?
I’ll have so much to apologize for in heaven
Well the yellow is fading
Here comes blue and then black
But not really black, not yet, not ever, really
What is it that leaves when night falls
As if comfort itself flits off to sleep
Night is so cold
She turns and reminds me, no, summer is coming
And we will have a dinner party late into the night
With citronella candles
And fireworks later and rockets with white stars
And red stripes
Munching on watermelon, spitting out the seeds into the grass
The sandbox is full of weeds, how long has it been
Since anyone played in it?
Digging their trenches and tunnels
While half the world away they are grown up
Digging whole new trenches and shooting their rockets
With white stars and red stripes
The preacher comes down the sidewalk
Nods his head at the blacksmith
Who is really a cable repairman
She tugs at my sleeve
Come inside, she urges, it’s getting chilly
But the sun is not down yet
Twenty-two was so long ago
But forty is not really that old, not at all
Unless you are half the world away in a trench
They used to say the world was falling to pieces
How could we bring children
Into a fallen and corrupt world?
But all people at all times probably say that
When the leaves turn and drift to the ground
And you have to get up early one Saturday to shovel the sidewalk
But the children are fine
Got in trouble from time to time
And Amber looks like her mother, glowing like tomorrow
Her wedding was just…
When was it?
It felt like just the other day, but it must have been years ago by now
Forty would be nice at this point
The rocking chair is creaking
And the preacher goes by again
On his way to study dispensation
And the mailman goes the other way
But not to kiss the woman across the street
She died years ago
But the mailman looks happy
And he shakes hands with the preacher with a grin
I have traveled too much I think
Nothing stands out, just blends together
Singapore and Vienna should stand out from Baghdad
But Singapore doesn’t really exist anymore
So I suppose
It doesn’t really matter
I looked in the woods the other day
Most of the trees are cut down but there is still a quiet spot
Where the trees block out the buildings
On a clear night, you can see the stars
And the rockets with their stars
And distant booms from the artillery
The TV stations are all gone, but on the shortwave
It says we are winning
Finally, after seven years
But the pews at the church are full every Sunday now
Wednesday nights, too
And the people love to sing “How Great Thou Art”
But I forgot to tell you about the woods
The tire swing was still there
The tree had to be old, ancient
Laughter comes back now
Why is it that in the darkest times we can still laugh?
Are we uncouth, or do we just abide by brighter light?
Summer will come again, it is true
The leaves may be falling now, and the world falling apart
But there is still hope
Which reminds me, I am a grandfather
I don’t know if I mentioned that
Hope is like a little angel, but I say that about every little girl
I meant to give her a present
An old book I used to love, “The Three Musketeers”
About chivalry and daring and high intrigue
Where’s France, she asks me
And I tell her it used to be a country in Europe
Sweet Europe with the ancient stones and living history
But that culture was too heavy a burden I suppose
Or perhaps it was just finally time for their autumn
The summer kingdom does not last forever. Not on earth, anyway
People say that’s what’s happening to us
The new president
He says that wars are over for good
But my neighbor still works at a military airfield
His wife cries sometimes at night
In the backyard under the stars
There are no rockets anymore
It seems so quiet these days
But it has been a long time since I was sixty-three
At least things are slowing down finally
I’ve had time to think, not that I didn’t before
I remember, I will never forget
I remember how I got here, I was never lost
Although it felt like that sometimes
With my arms outstretched
Laughter never really left
We just were afraid she would
And the winter doesn’t seem so bad anymore
Everything is tinted, like sepia, like those old photos
From a forgotten war in the South
But no one these days knows what photos are
Anyway
I remember those boys in their trenches halfway
Around the world
We will not forget you, we faithful few
I remember the quiet cool of the woods
The swish of the tire swing
The splash of water
I remember the scaly turtle
The sandbox and the citronella candles
Lazy afternoons watching cartoons
The ivy in the park and old Colonel Macomber
Leading his charge
Of squirrels and pigeons
I remember driving late at night
Kisses in the dark, warm embraces
She always teased me but I didn’t mind
She left me ten years ago, went on ahead
I long to see her again
But no apologies in heaven, we’ll all understand
I remember a mailman and his sweetheart
And a preacher bursting with pride
Over his new stained glass window
The woods are gone to make way for the new mall
I meant to ask them if they found an old tire swing
Or an ancient sofa
But I forgot
I still remember how she looked though
When I asked her to marry me
Some things you never forget
Not that you would want to
It is almost like they are an extension of you
I remember getting out of school early
And the tree house dad made
And when it fell down years later
I remember thunderstorms
And green things, even though it all looks gray now
And laughter. And smiles
God has been faithful
The world never fell apart
Although the new couple across the street says it will
They don’t want to have children, but
I don’t say anything. I don’t want to sound like an old man
Even though I am
I remember Amber and her sweet Hope
Hope still visits now and again
But they live on the other side of the world now
In air conditioned houses built over old trenches
Where rockets used to fly, with white stars and red stripes
And the best of a generation down below
The new preacher wanted me to move into a home
But I told him I already had one
Out in the trees, under the stars
I moved away from the old place
I hope no one is too upset
It was going to get torn down anyway
The rocking chair came with me
But it is falling apart too
It is an odd thing to outlive everything, everyone you hold dear
But memory is stronger than I expected
So is laughter
And hope
I am ready to go now
Have been all my life, really
But more ready than ever now
I suppose you don’t care
But maybe you do
And that’s why I’m telling you
Even though we are ready to leave
Something in use craves life, doesn’t want to pass on
Wants us to leave something of ourselves behind
So take my words, if nothing else
My memories are in there somewhere, take good care of them
I will understand if you can’t, that’s how things pan out sometimes
The sun is setting for what feels like the last time
I hear silver trumpets playing celestial reveille
I know how I got here, and where I came from
I am ready to come inside, dear.