Reflections in a Mirror

#1

I heard Canada Geese today. 
It took me back;
Way back
To the Chesapeake Bay, To the Eastern Shore.
Where the living was easy; Oysters, and corn,
Fish, and corn, 
Crabs, and corn, 
Corn, and chickens.
And the living was easy. 
If young, you were.
If male, you were.
If white, you were.
The living was easy.
I heard Canada Geese today. 
It took me back;
Way back
To that day’s USA
And then,
It rained today. 
A winter rain,
A soft, slow, grey rain 
And, so cold too.
All day, 
A rain with no wind, 
A rain that starves and Washes away 
As much as it feeds. 
It took me back
To the Eastern Shore.
To the hard, fast, dark, Scary rain.
And not all day.
A rain bringing life. But wind and rain With lightning
Is a different thing. Taking the life
Of a crabber, 
Of a farmer.
Some of the cost
Of easy living.

#2

I am surrounded There’s no pity.
They don’t have time. 
It’s cruel is what it is. There is no escape.
I am surrounded. They move fast.
They can’t hang back. 
I cannot try to go Where they go.
I am surrounded
and
When they ask; 
What do you know? What can I say?
That I know less and less? 
That history repeats.
It’s not enough to pray. That Evil’s always there? Anyway,
What do I know?
Did success get done? Or is my life a mess.
Anyway,
Why do I care?
Can I undo what is done?
Can I make good the promise?

#3

Why is it
That things don’t work? 
How is it
That sleep replaces play?
What happened
To the kid who could? That kid left home 
Just a while ago.
He couldn’t stay. 
The place falls apart.
The windows are cloudy The lights are dim.
Nothing really works. The kid left home.
But what remains, 
Faded and worn, Weathered by wind, Rain, and time
Is not empty. 
There are ghosts
Of a past full life That tell life-tales That fill the space, Warm the walls, And give the light. 
Ghosts
To hold back
The dark.

#4

I’m a boomer.
Been so all my life.
My older brother, 
Born in war
Was serious, 
And silent  
I had all the fun.
California dreaming,
Dropping out 
And dropping in
He went to war 
And picked up a gun
I did not.
I was the prodigal
He was not
Were we close?
We were not.
Before it all,
And at the end,
We had history.
We had trust.
We were brothers
At the end.

#5

It’s Christmas day.
A day of noise
And for the young
Of toys perhaps.
It’s Christmas day
And for the middle 
A day of families,
Food, and naps.
It’s Christmas day
And for me, the old
A day to pray
For Light
To light the way 
To peace and grace.
It’s Christmas day.
A day of noise, 
A day of joys,
A day of light,
A day of grace.
A day to know
To be aware
Where love is not, 
There is no grace.
Where hope is not,
There is no light.
A day to know
Of those
Already in despair.
Those lost to joy
Or to the light,
In darkness,
Dark as night.
A darkness that 
Can eat the soul.
Give me courage
Give me grace
To open doors
And windows too
To call them in.
It’s Christmas day.

---

Dexter Chapin – Sometimes a writer, always a K-12 teacher helping kids dream in the face of change.

Author, Master Teachers: Making a Difference on the Edge of Chaos, 2008

In final draft, with working title, America; The Titanic, Hindenburg, or Miracle on the Hudson

In development, poetry collection with working title, Reflections in a Faded Mirror