Charlie Chaplin and Me
When I was a kid, I thought we were related.
I walked like him and, like him, didn’t speak,
and could pantomime like a vagabond tramp.
Ballroom dancing was easy as I skated my way
around flip-flops with orders of restaurant meals.
I was always roaming around my neighborhood,
looking in windows as if I didn’t belong anywhere.
Every one of his silent films was too good to miss,
and I fell madly in love with Claire Bloom in Limelight.
When he ridiculed Hitler, I laughed until I cried,
and applauded until I wore the skin off of my hands.
I envied him for having the courage of his convictions,
to retire to a country with no army.
Courage
You never know how much
you have until you’re tested.
I had no fear when I slept overnight
In the woods to prove I was as brave
as a Leni Lenape Indian at the age of 14
to qualify as an honorary member
of the Order of the Arrow.
I had no fear when I took a bus to Afton, New York
to work as a Farm Cadet during the second world war.
I was not afraid to drive my ’37 Dodge to Iowa City
in a January blizzard of 1950 to enroll as a student
at the University of Iowa. I had no fear the day I became
a member of the US Army during the Korean War.
Now I’m being tested again as I face life alone
after losing my loving wife of 67 years. How brave will I be?
I will be the first to find out.
The Love of My Life
Anyone can tell you
she presented herself
as a sparkling bright light
with an alluring charisma,
and more alive than any
human being I ever knew.
Her lifelong guiding idea
was to live with no chance
of the casual.
Vibrating with life, she never
wanted to miss a trick, yet
managed to live by the five
Buddhist precepts even though
her dreams were often filled
with dancing dreidels, mezuzahs
and menorahs.
Her presence changed the quality
of the air, made the sun hotter, and
the moon whiter than it has ever been.
My Mutinous First Mate
Jumped overboard before me,
leaving me to cry the 3 rivers dry
from the tidal estuaries of—
Brudenell, Cardigan and Montague,
rivers that flowed into Saint Mary’s Bay.
I spent the happiest days of my life
with my chest puffed up like Captain Bly,
getting my Boston Whaler underway across
the bay to Boughton Island. She stood at the
bow, her hair flowing in the wind, moments
before she exclaimed to me: I will wait for you,”
and dove into the sea.
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