Birthday Poem

The weather has changed.
Yesterday, rain, mist and claps of thunder.
Today, plum blossoms and sunshine.
Today I begin a new, uncertain decade.

Time is always, always flowing
Smooth as 280 on a Sunday morning.
I am in this moment
Drinking my coffee
Lifting a croissant to my lips
Butter on my fingers
I chew and swallow, and
Meander in my thoughts.
Wander in my poem.
I eat to comfort myself.
I am my own Grandmother now.

I want a book of myself
A testament to my code of conduct
I want a rationale.
I search in the clutter of my desk for papers I want to keep.
I toss it all out.
I delete all the messages.
I wipe out the screen.
I start over from scratch
The weather has changed, after all.
I can do this.

Yesterday, a man died in Palo Alto.
He lay down, blue by the Burger King.
Closer to home, cancer cells multiply
Daily and strangle a friend.
A golden boy sleeps in his room
All day, wakes late to battle
Enemies on the screen all night.
We all need comfort.
We need a change of weather.

It has been the year of emergencies.
We cope, we manage, we get along.

Tonight we will have a long
Conversation over dinner.
I’ll taste the mussels and lick the garlic and butter off my spoon.
I’ll turn to you for comfort, too, and tell you
How I wish for happiness, for health and my sad, futile ; thoughts
for the Burger King man,
and those who helped him
Before he died.