Showing posts with label William Butler Yeats. Show all posts
Showing posts with label William Butler Yeats. Show all posts

Wednesday, August 06, 2008

In the Name of the Father, the Son, and the Enola Gay; I Now Pronounce You, Husband and Wife

Today marks the 63rd Anniversary of a monumental event.

No, not the evaporation of thousands of Hiroshimoans by the dropping of the A-Bomb…

Well, yeah, that too I guess, but I am talking about something even bigger...


Well, at least something a bit more on the feel good side of things.

Though neither are with us any longer, today marks what would have been my mom and dad’s 63rd Wedding Anniversary.

That’s right Bagwine Heads, my mom and dad were married August 6th, 1945.

Much like the chain reaction energy generated by The Bomb, their nuptials set off a chain reaction that produced nine babies over the course of 19 years.

Seven boys, two girls, and they saved the best for last. Me.

Mom and Dad were two of the best people I have ever known, in spite of the fact that they never had Central Air installed until we all moved out.

Dad has been gone nearly ten years, and Mom a little over two, and I have often imagined what they are doing now.

I think I figured it out last night at work. In between customers, I wrote it down in my head, and typed it out when I got home…


On God’s Front Porch

I see them sitting together
Long on years,
yet once again, and forever, young in appearance.

His right hand holds a dry martini;
hers, a cold bock beer.
Their left hands mingle joyfully.

Palms pressed, fingers entwined
flesh against flesh;
two souls as one, within their grasp

Then, with an odd mix of Midwest matter-of-factness
and an endless supply of Irish charm,
he entertains her by echoing Yeats, and Thomas,
and Sonnets from the Portuguese.

And she, to the casual observer, may look unimpressed
but only for the frosted glass that she sips upon,
that obscures her smile, and her fondness,
and her happiness.

His right hand holds a martini;
hers, a cold bock beer.
Their left hands mingle joyfully,

As they watch the perfect sunset
nesting just above the horizon, for all eternity.

©MPM 2008


Here’s to you Mom and Dad, have a lovely Anniversary and tell brother Phil that we miss him too.

I’ll be in and out much of today and tonight, so if I don’t “see” ya, I’ll catch up with ya tomorrow.

Happy Hump Day.


Cheers!!