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.