Capstone
He stands here on soft grass
Across Lake Shore Drive
From the vast diaphanous lake
As Memory’s nuggets surprise,
Wash over and through him.
Replenished; his life
Has been good, filled with stories
Of train hopping, scaling boulders
And volcanoes, birth of a son
Then a daughter,
Caring for children, lovers and
Friends, writing and painting,
Endings and ashes
Scattered in rivers, under graveside
Bushes, in forests, city gardens
near sidewalks.
He sips more coffee with cream
Gazes with this sheening water
That gleams like gems in morning sun
When the word ‘capstone’
Arrives like a peregrine falcon
(A word he’s never used before);
And he knows that it’s marriage
To her, an unknown good woman,
In these last chapters of life
To top off the edifice that’s been building
For decades.
The Great Lake in its silence shimmers~
Receiving this knowing
And holds his dream in its depths
Like a friend for life
With no further words
Swimming, nor
Needed, between them.
