On the bank of Putah Creek
I pay a father’s respects
To the ashes of a fallen son.
The creek pays no attention
And flows on as always.
Time, however, stands
Warm on a cold morning, I have the blood of my father
And the strength of my mother, a gray mist
In the air is stimulating. I can live with that.
The music of Coltrane and Sonny Rollins,
Dexter Gordon and Bill Evans; I can fill my time
With notes in the air like lovely birds.
I have a fierce wife, she takes on the crimes
Of an unjust society. Sometimes I join her,
Other times Coltrane and these poems are enough.
Sometime ago I passed sixty years on this Earth.
A grandchild joined us and a son was lost,
I cannot walk as well as I did, such is life.
For no reason at all I am updating you.
The jazz is up loud. The coffee is strong and fresh,
Were you to join me here, I’d pour you a cup.