The Wonder of You.
I never got to see Elvis.
I saw the Beatles.
Saw the Rolling Stones
but I never got to see Elvis,
Saw Niagara
Saw three of the Seven Wonders
Saw a rainbow sit like a tiara
over my city
but I never got to see Elvis.
But I saw my baby girl
get born
held her in the palms of my hands.
I never got to see Elvis
but I got to hold my baby girl.
Penny has a new pet.
A Labrador called Lucky.
It’s what she always wanted.
Well, almost.
He sits, jumps and spins around
and chases after frisbees.
Penny takes him for long walks
on the screen.
When he’s tired Penny puts him to bed.
His kennel is a black microchip.
When Penny slips it in the game console
each morning
Lucky comes out to play.
He woofs with delight and rubs
his snowy head against the screen.
Penny would love to cuddle him.
[written in 1986, the day before]
I suppose
I will hold your hand
That night
The comet passes over
And I will guide your young, young eyes
And show you its starry path
Across these Southern skies
And say,
“Look, that is the comet”
And you will stare in wonder with me
And perhaps we will never be
This close again.
And I will say,
“Look closely. One day when you
Are very, very old
You will tell your children what it was like
On this day”
And they will hold your hand
That day in 2061
And ask you,
“Did grandma and grandma see it with you?”
And you will shake
Your tired old eyes
And remember
Though we will long be dust
Like a comet’s tail.
“You’re like Lee Chandler,” she said.
“Who?”
“Lee Chandler, the guy Casey Affleck plays in ‘Manchester by the Sea.’”
Jackson liked that film but he did not like Lee Chandler, the way he closed himself off from people.
“That saddens me.”
“That you’re like Lee Chandler or that I mentioned it?”
“Both.”
“The reason I brought it up is that I asked you if you’d like to see Anne perform and you said you’d give it a miss though I made it clear I’d like you to go.”
“I know. I’ve thought it over and would like to go see her perform.”
“Because you want to or because you’re afraid of being compared to Lee Chandler?”
“Both.”
It was a little late, Jackson admitted. It would have been better if he’d said so straight off but at least it was a move towards empathy. She would have to give him that.
Those pigeons are either sparring
with their wings as fists
Having a tiff
Or clumsily copulating
feathers flying everywhere
But I wish they’d get off
The cubby house roof
Before the sun sets
So the children can come out
And play.
John Malone 