Poems for Grace

A Judge wearing tennis shoes married Grace and me in his home overlooking the Pacific. That was July 14, 1956 or Bastille Day. Now in 2014—57 years later, she has died, with Tibetan Buddhist Prayer Flags waving her into the light. Here are a few of the poems I wrote for her through the years. Her deep presence in loving kindness runs through them, along with her smiles and laughter.

In addition, the Syndic Journal has my reading of several of these poems. For Grace

This poem in 2010 explains why there are none from our early years.

Someone else

Those early poems
false starts
so many lines crossed out.
That stuttering child
so afraid
he can’t say anything right
so afraid
to feel your great love
and reflect its tone and texture.

“Sorry, you must think
I’m someone else,

Finally I started to see you
with my heart
and then I finally learned
to finish our poems.