Maybe more rave than there is to go around
Moving more slowly
Laden deep, these swelling waters
Older flags having ragged edges
Yet, humor still displayed
Nature vehemently ever
In charge
We, passengers, deny goals
While seeking mere survival
New horizons no longer being sought
Yet, somehow,
With eyes sparkling
Freshness from a small breeze billowing
Sails struggling
Still willing to move us forward
Have we a momentary reprieve at hand
What manner they be
These passengers of mine
Again, no matter
Nature will decide
Those viewing our ship will never understand
Colleagues, Troopers, Lovers
All past have been mine
All actors, we
Manage to sail forward
Though desperation be our band
One single light remains downstage
As if waiting for an audience
Who will finally understand!
HK, 1983
…It was today.
Awakening from a sleep
I had dreamed of yesteryear
A young lad on his long Saturday morning walk
Hand in hand with a father’s protection
Without notice, we arrived
Lincoln Terrace Park, Brooklyn, New York
1944, a war’s magnitude still permeating all lives
Dad was a man of forty-two, I, a boy of eleven
Suddenly, as dreams often do, it came to its end…
One man spoke to a group of others: “Did you hear?” he said to no one in particular, “Charlie caught a ball for his kid. It was the other day, the Dodgers were playing the Giants. I think it was off the bat of Pee Wee Reese”.
I smiled, it became reality. It was time to begin my day; this day in 2022, as da harv, now a man of eighty-eight…
So, my friends, “What’s new with almost all of you?”
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