two twin sisters
wearing sage-green tights
draw pink jaguars
on a broken sidewalk,
sunlight caressing
their strawberry blonde curls

two twin sisters
wearing sage-green tights
draw pink jaguars
on a broken sidewalk,
sunlight caressing
their strawberry blonde curls

a pale autumn sun,
bright with light despite its low arc,
bursts through the delicate translucence
of her simple, cotton draperies
Uber-fans, like me, of the 1979 classic All That Jazz will recognize those lyrics from a film that chronicles one man’s journey toward his demise. The movie is chockful of spectacular performances and never fails to fill my eyes with tears.
Yesterday, less than a month after my own mother passed away, I attended the funeral of a beloved uncle. Sitting there, during what seemed an interminable though well-intended sermon, it occurred to me that I’ve reached that stage in life where one by one, my elders and eventually my familial peers will eventually meet the same fate. As will I…
There will be more funerals, the gaps between each one and the next more slender; they will not occur as infrequently as they did even ten years ago. My mother’s remaining six sisters’ and their spouses’ bodies are in decline, some more evident than others. My husband’s family, even larger, tells the same story.
We will be attired in black, yet again, many times in the coming days, weeks, months and years. None of us know the when only that the if will never fit inside the equation. Never has.
Angelique, the Angel of Death, who troubles and endears Joe Gideon in the film, is beautiful and charismatic. Joe both adores and fears her. Not yet, he tells her at one point, and she demurs, backs away, allows him to live a bit longer.
May we all live – well and truly! – just a bit longer though one day, this same inevitability will arrive for each of us.
humidity creeps back up
soaring temps and ragweed too —
I look towards frost & drier air,
the chill of autumn’s overlay
*
to breathe freely again,
to step outside,
to enjoy nature
& the wide-open outdoors

jagged shadows soften
in September’s luscious light —
sharpened points muted,
& now made beautiful

a child wraps herself
around the milk-chocolate feathers
of a bantam chicken,
its fleshy red comb wobbles
as the young girl’s grip
tightens with affection,
then loosens in apprehension
that borders on fear
as the hen clucks and shimmies,
anxious for its freedom
to root and strut and peck
in the dust and strewn feed
with the rest of its impassive flock
the boy is a puzzle
inconsistencies abound and yet,
occasional wisdom, keen insight
gems I never possessed
when I was his age
sometimes, lacking even now —
how, I wonder, did that come to be?
that HVAC in-between —
cool desire in order to sleep,
a nudge of warmth to remove the chill,
come temperature drop-offs
in an autumn early a.m.
Cardinal Gold vs. Black & Gold
Weather’s perfect for the Big Game
Autumn & Football, Divine!
GO STATE!!
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