After retiring in 2000, I continued living in Rio de Janeiro. My free time activities remained the same. An add on was volunteer work for a neighborhood civic organization.
One the poems I wrote was conceived of as an open ended work. “Scruples” now totals six entries: two from 2004, three from 2005, and the latest from 2006.
This posting to three by 3 comprises the first three. Each is a thematically linked free standing poem The next three will be posted in the March-May 2014 installment.
For readers who would like to hear the poems, I have recorded sound files of 1 and 2. Clicking on the triangle initiates listening playback.
Scruples
1.
Last night a meteorite fell
on our lawn. It´s as big
as a birdbath, but not
smooth, round, or white—
almost pitch black and
deeply furrowed.
In the spring they come
weekly, without much warning.
So far, none´ve hit a house,
just backyards.
This one landed damn near
our rose garden.
Thank heavens it missed.
2.
The gate opens wide
because you oiled the hinges.
Now even a breeze can easily
come and go.
But what about the latch?
Rusty…a spring´s missing…
another in pieces…
Tomorrow, next week, month,
it might fall off,
locking you in, or out.
3.
Lazarus is alive. He’s eating breakfast
with his sisters. On the table
there’s fresh fruit, hot bread,
enough tea for everyone, including
well wishers who’ll soon
be swarming in like locusts.
Mary and Martha are crying,
but not for joy. He’s sorrier
than they could ever be…
says he was on the way to heaven
before it turned back to Bethany,
that their meddling in his afterlife
did more harm than good.
First published in Mixed Nerve
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