emerald and orange – the emerald
of the isle you’re from,
of the grass you mowed
next door – the orange of
your hair and the fire
in your temperament – emeralds and
oranges – and water – snow drifts
between us, oceans surround us,
let streams of peace flow
in you and your family

from the deck of paradise,
we overlook the cove named
after you, serene in lake
love – antidote to aches and
pains, ills and wells of
loved ones, now numerous as
blueberries in the local fields –
how often does your mind’s
eye conjure future accidents or
past bombs falling over France?

you had to laugh a
lot – you tried to guide
our group through talking’s
hedge of thorns, in spite of
all our wicked secrets and
obsessions – you tried to guide,
then thought better of it,
switched to a stage where
tales are yours to tell –
we shut up and listen

when you had it made
you climbed on the roof
and looked toward the Catskills,
played with frogs of destiny
and chemistry sets of nuclear
winter, by rights a writer,
by wrongs the one who
left home and visited Alaska
never straying very far from
the landscape of your past

I googled you – found two
sets of results, a parallel
life as a photographer? no,
it seems you may have
gone from bad to worse
(in a good way?) – technology
was never kind to you
although you were kind to
me and more than once
exempted me from general scolding

crescent moon blue eyes, diamonds
sparkle in her ears like
stars, body reminiscient of the
earth – she looks at faces
round the table, reading words,
who can listen, who can
comprehend? following rules not fantasies,
directions not dreams, lost hours,
days, unaccounted for on project
plans – let’s do something different

plumber to the stars – how
I imagine you, blond giant,
looming over smaller folk who
lack your awesome skills at
joking, surfing, having a good
laugh at the expense of
any troubles or regrets – let’s
resist the drama, picnic on
the lawn, plan water balloon
bombings – prankster to the stars