It was a June night.
\nA lovely, beautiful night.
\nThe beginning of a drought.
\nPeople filled my house.
\nThey were roses and carnations
\neverywhere, unabashed with blooming.
\nMy three grandsons led the pack
\nof angels in the party.
\nBut the children abounded.<\/p>\n
There were flashes of sunlight
\nscattered on the sea.
\nI watched them play, laugh,
\nstruggle in the sandboxes
\nwith construction, pails, spoons
\nand buckets.
\nThe apprentice generations
\ngraduating from high school,
\nmiddle school, kindergarten.<\/p>\n
And the birthday of Nellie,
\n95 years old, sitting stoically.
\nOur human society,
\nthe granulation of the cherished,
\nand the puzzlement of memory.
\nOlder members smearing memoirs
\nwith sentimental tears.<\/p>\n
I would ask you,
\nwatching kids grow up,
\nbabies speak,
\njobs pass hands,
\nthe puzzlement behind the quickness
\nof our passing.<\/p>\n
What did I do to deserve
\nthis wonderful destiny?
\nAnd all I can say at party\u2019s end,
\nit was not long enough,
\nnot full enough
\nto my life\u2019s dream,
\nthat I would give
\nto each and every one of them
\na gratitude
\nhowling with love!<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
It was a June night. A lovely, beautiful night. The beginning of a drought. People filled my house. They were roses and carnations everywhere, unabashed…<\/p>\n