Sunday, September 08, 2013

Labor Day


 



Underpraised. Samuel reached that stage when life started starving him. It was like the end of Summer in the garden when the stems were growing stringy and watering was no longer eagerly done. Hope was no longer a part of the garden, now it was harvest time and fruits were simply taken if they were there without the expectation of anything useful coming.

Like the end of Summer
when stems are stringy
watering no longer
eagerly done,
hope no longer part.
Harvest time and
fruits are matter-of-factly taken
not expecting anything
new and magical.
Underpraised.
When life starts starving him.


When the sun rose and it was morning, Samuel open his eyes with a pop, the shudder was slow to arise but it came. There would be lots of days and there was a long list of things to do, things that kept him alive but were not nutritious in themselves. He threw his legs over the side of the bed nursing his usual stiff back. He hated to bend and delayed that action, but it eventually came.

The sun blasted through the trees. Samuel lived among the lower branches of the canopy. He could see the squirrels and birds at their lives, intimately but ignorantly, not knowing their language.

When the sun rises I open
my eyes with a pop.
The bed is warm
with the history of night.
The sun blasts through the trees
as it always has. I'm high
among the lower branches of the canopy,
can see the squirrels and the birds at their lives,
intimate but ignorant
not knowing their languages.
It is not morning
until I hear your voice.

Because of a connection Marcie made at the Y during her exercise class, the couple were invited to a party at one of the large homes at the harbor's edge on Labor Day weekend. Everyone there was a vegetarian so the dining was an adventure in food engineering.

They celebrated good health and good taste as the small boats slipped along the waterway, tiny lights like little moving stars and planets in the darkening dusk.

Samuel reacted in his usual way to the honor of attendence. He thought it was a prevision, that at the bottom of it was a benificent spirit who was ready to give him what he craved. He felt admitted, he gained admission to an honored club, as he was in high school when the teachers silently voted him into the National Honor Society, that it was the beginning of a turning.

Samuel remembered the pagent when he was inducted into the National Honor Society. He remembered the processional music, a grand march.

All the details at the dinner suddenly seemed to be connected like elements in a story. Words spoken were each bricks in the construction of a house. Half knowing that the people laughing at other tables were all of their own, half realizing that they didn't know him, that they were enjoying their own success, Samuel saw that they were all talking about him, that he was the star, a new upstart star.

It was a wonderful dinner. Marcie told her acquaintence as they left the palace, that they enjoyed themselves and were honored to attend.

They were never invited again.

All the details
at the dinner
seem to be connected
like elements in a story.
Words spoken
each were stones
in the construction of a house.
I know the people
laughing at other tables were
all of their own,
but they were all
talking of me,
as me.
A feeling of great profundity in the room
stopped time.

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