Showing posts with label Levi Armstrong. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Levi Armstrong. Show all posts

Friday, October 19, 2012

Where Levi Walked


In a little while, I will go and
stand with family and friends
as they remember their Levi,
gone a year now – was it today?

I will watch they who watched
Levi go from boy to man
they who hold the picture memories
so close in their hearts – always
the smiles are what grab and hold

smiling Levi holding a crab up
to the camera . . . smiling Levi
posing for the senior picture
perfect moment picture –
so much more important
than he could have ever guessed

It is that smile I remember
on the face of the boy-man
I barely knew but who
inhabits my refrigerator along
with so many others still here,
smiling new picture memories

I will go to the woods today
I will walk where Levi walked
and I will stand – for a time –
with those who love him best –
witness to their love, their loss




Monday, October 24, 2011

Where I Live . . . Part 2


Where I live . . .
a neighbor brings by a couple of garbage bags full of black walnuts
just because he picked them up
and knows I love them
even though I was too lazy to join him in picking
them up from the ground the other day
Hulled, they lay on newspaper
in the garage
drying out a bit
waiting to be shelled

Where I live, if I get too frustrated or too lazy to shell them myself,
I can always call Lucy
down the street
busy shelling her own nuts
oxygen tank at her side
hammer and the skill of generations
in her hands

Where I live, Keri is busy making applebutter
and when I FB to ask if I can come over just to inhale
she laughs and messages me back
to go stand outside
the window’s open
so I should be able to smell all the
applebutter I want
all I have to do
is stand in the cool night air
and breathe in

Where I live
when tragedy strikes
as it did this week
with Levi's death in a car accident
Everyone pitches in to help
food comes unbidden
and even out here in the country
FB messages of love and comfort fly
across the cyber lines of connection
even as we all reel from the news
the loss
three young men in a year
Anyplace the loss is writ large on the hearts of those close
in a small place, the loss is writ on the hearts and faces
of everyone . . . because everyone is close

Where I live. . .
black walnut cracking time
and applebutter making time
and crying-for-the-ones-who-died-too-young-time
are all coming in at once this year . . .
Pray for us, won’t you . . .
as we pray for you . . .