#60 for sarah

in the evenings, when even the bones are tired
and every bit of energy that could be conjured
has been - 
there is still a young rapper in his room -
discovering the magic of words -
and another boy, taking a vacation
from the wonders of the cosmos
and finance
to play a video game with a friend.
the noises are absolute.
my dog curls up like a pinto bean - 
his big ears on alert.
something inside me hungers.

so much of a day spent doing
remains undone
until the heart has had her chance to rumble.
the fingers their chance to skip
               across the black pavers - 
at last awake.

#53

i am sorry for dying - 
the way the orchid petal limps and clings - 
refusing to drop.
i found all the merchandise a heartbreak - 
the way i said i love you with a boxful 
and ribbon -
as if even a portion of my reverence
could be contained.
when time steals you away from me - 
because you are growing
and learning to love things outside of Us - 
i wonder at having had once
my own dreams - 
before i cared more about an elusive collective
and following your youth
 into the night.

#50

We drive in traffic 
at night
to see papa - who
at almost 93 years old -
is the first to call you toots.
Irv's a good kid
says his grandson -
the other calls him homey.
A Haagan Daz enthusiast,
he drinks hot coffee 
from a red Solo keg cup
and holds his own 
against top ranked players
at daily Bridge.
We will dip a chip in guacamole
share a hunk of cheese
and build a future we worry losing. 
Time makes everything delicious and awful.
We love him like banana pancakes.
(Written by Larry Ben Jonas and Danielle Salk in car on whim. )

#48

i am thinking about dads today
and how my own died way to young -
and how so much of who i have become
was because of this man -
that, in some ways, i barely knew.
but i knew him.
i know your dad died early too, and yours.
and how hard it is for all of us
to look at our boys, our sons, our nephews
and think - 
they will never get to meet him, or - 
god, my dad would love you.
i am proud.
to have had a dad. to have, 
through marriage and love
helped make one. to understand
the delicate fabric
that holds our men together -
that shapes our boys.
I feel dangerously too close sometimes -
to the essence of things -
how i catch a glimpse of my child
walking passed in a man's body.
he carry's my father's death with him, you know
and lends him another life.