SIX GIFTS ON MY 89 TH BIRTHDAY
Arrived as neatly as skimming
a flat stone across Rudd Pond.
Like a farmer who plants seeds,
I’ve watched my kids procreate
offspring who appear like pickerels
jumping out of the water—one
after the other, who I now greet
in their pictures every morning
on the door of my refrigerator.
Their presence softens the sting
of having to leave this world since
I witness what I could have done
and who I should have been, in
the flowering genetic potential
of my grandkids—age 6 to 26.
After I’m gone, I plan to be around
with the help of the Morse Code
that I learned in the U. S. army.
Watch for my dots and dashes.