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MEMORY AT SIXTY-FIVE

 

I’m having a

conversation with

someone when my 

brain goes AWOL

and a name or word -- 

think Johnny Mathis,

labyrinth, waxy begonia.

bank password - becomes

deeply submerged

and can’t be retrieved

until three to five hours

later, when what was

missing pops up

through the seaweed,

into another time

and space.

VOW

 

I WILL

 

not 

apologize

 

for

being old.

MEDITATION

 

In the evenings

I inhale

jazz piano

as my spiritual 

practice, with

Jarrett, Monk

and Peterson

the teachers

who play a time-out

for heart and ego

as petty irritations 

are deleted,

critical voices

stilled, and

in this twenty-

minute pause

where I am

silent, the music

enters my soul

and irons my life. 

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