Behind the Wind

by Renee Podunovich

It seems like I've known him

forever. the years are stacked up like pancakes

and the stack has become so tall that the ones

on the bottom can't even be seen anymore.

are just vague, reconstructed or falsified memories.

but they are there at the bottom of the pile

holding the whole thing up.

that's how long I've known him.

but today at the beach. seeing him from behind.

the wind sifted through his graying hair.

it appears something magnificent is moving

and blowing him along the shore.

he leans over. gathering. looking.

paying attention to the world

and the moment before him

and I wonder, Who is this man?

the one running up smiling.

Look at these, he says of a handful of shells.

broken. fragments. remains. rubble mostly.

some are whole and a few are quite extraordinary.

but he is holding them like they are the most amazing

gift in the world. like someone would hold the fork

loaded with the first bite of pancakes

dripping with maple syrup and butter

before they know enough to care about the calories.

Aren't these amazing? and so I look again. more closely.

this is a man who cares about the bits and pieces.

the shards. the cast offs. the broken things of the world.

he spends the days visiting dying patients

and lately, he wonders if he's made any difference at all.

he sees first hand that people have nothing in the end.

except the time they spent doing what they loved

and loving the world the best they could.

all the rest of it. shells.

rubbed and eroded by the sea.

Yes, these are amazing, I say.

and into my cupped hands he places

this treasure.

kcsoul There's some magic in this poem...I like it a lot.

May 15 at 6:44pm