for Loren

... a poem by Anita White

yes, Loren is gone
gone
Hard to imagine
or really know

even after the solemn procession
and the big community grieving

AND the  CELEBRATION OF HIS GREAT AND WONDERFUL LIFE!!!

OH LOREN!!

it is almost Thanksgiving
tonight I’ll cut up succulent
oranges, lemons and apples
to soak in red wine for a deep
red rich Sangria
that we will drink to make us happy
on Thanksgiving

it is enough to drink the wine
of forgetfulness
and gather round deeply
in the embrace of family

as a cold wind blows by.....

I imagine that same wind
winds up the Mississippi
bends round Loren’s domain
and dances with his ghost

 we remember him with joy!!

but the lonliness is aching.

the community celebration
was so good.......

and yet,
there’s a period at the end of every sentence.

and each season
brings the reminder
of inevitable change.

soon, it will be winter.

look, now, carefully
as snowflakes fall,
see, there they are
Loren’s footsteps
in the snow
in the wilderness
walking out to the last horizon