POEM: REFRAIN

Refrain

Wait upon me a while.

Pour cool water over my brow,

then guide me to where

I would stand.

On salt-scarred rocks

we will look together

upon all there is.

And later,

let my darkness guide you

across that rare ocean

to distant shores

that gift new travelers

with bright pearls.

Take with you my song,

my early voice,

and listen to it a’ times

upon the wind.

For I will be there.

And here.

I wrote this some years ago for a fellow who did odd jobs at the place where I worked. He was a retired school-teacher and he and his wife came in from time to time to paint or do small repairs, and so on. One day around lunchtime I saw them sitting in their car in the driveway. Bruce had a look of pain and exhaustion on his face. I didn’t see them afterwards (that I recall) but I later learned that Bruce had cancer and had died some short time afterwards. I wrote this as—what? as homage to a life well-lived; as something that might give a small bit of solace for his wife. (I think I sent her a copy, but, again, I don’t remember). A few years later, I gave a copy to a friend who had just lost her father. Recently, someone I'm acquainted with suffered a sudden, tragic loss. And I thought of giving her a copy, but I just didn’t know how it would be received; if it would be seen as an intrusion. So I didn’t—and now think I should have. So the next best thing, I guess, is to put it here.

I’ll only say that I like the poem’s sense of ceremony and dignity around the speaker. And I like the images: “salt-scarred rocks” and “bright pearls”. I guess I find it comforting when all is said and done, and I hope anyone reading it will too.