Larry Died Today

Larry died today

and I found myself

these past days

and weeks – looking –

without realizing – 

for signs – not wonders –

just signs – just a little hint,

Lord, that all is well with Larry,

that all would be well with

Larry, that even as we’re here,

and he was here and not here,

that You are here with us and

more, there, wherever there is,

with him – and who knows about

such things – do I see what I’m 

looking for?  Or did you really 

send some signs to a little ole’

country preacher – was it you

when I saw Larry’s profile, hugged

by a mother, in last evening’s clouds?

Was it you?  Or even Larry?  In the 

swirling dervish of autumn leaves

swirling and swirling round me and

running, like a teasing child, across

the road, taking the leaves with you,

like when Larry used to mulch and

mow and rake and gather and cart

away the many leaves of fall – 

a tender by nature, Larry tended

these grounds I inhabit so very well – 

the leaves did dance around and then

away from me – but leaving a few 

behind in my rocking chair – 

in the hours after – 

when he has gone and we are left

and wondering what to do with

ourselves now in the aftermath, in 

the gone-ness of this thing that was

a life?  I do not know which of you it was

– but I was looking for signs without

even knowing I was looking and 

somehow, I got my answer, didn’t I?

And that is enough and good enough

and more than enough and Larry is

fine and more than fine and it is another

day and the leaves are dancing and 

signs and wonders are abounding

and I?  Well, I suppose I am grateful.

Thanks for the leaves – always the 

perfect leaving – how do you do it?