Moments of Clarity

Through the lattice in your backyard, I can see

two pairs of feet…one in white tennies and the

other in tiny black cowboy boots.  You are

picking tangerines with my Spitfire.  He is my

heart, and my lesson from God in humility.

You show him how to pick just the right ones;

how to breathe them in, and feel that magic of

energy and life that comes in the shape of a

tangerine tree in his Nonie’s backyard.  And like

a wave swelling up to shore, I can feel the past

pushing up to meet me here.  I am five, and we

are on the dock at your house in Huntington

Beach.  Your legs are long, lean, and tanned

next to my short, pale ones.  We are counting

the boats that putter by.  Naming the colors

on their sails, and waving to the men and women

working the lines.  I try to teach these boys

the way that you taught mom, and the way

that you both taught me.   I am at the tiller

and working the sails, and trying to help them

see all the colors and the friendly faces and the

ripe tangerines, and the beauty of the sun as it

plays on the wind-rippled waters of the harbor.

Thank you, Norm

I miss you so.

All my love, Rosie