Round his eyes,
lines deepen
Frailer now
He doesn’t see or hear as well
deterioration
Fear seizes my heart
Ah, great friend
always to my young eyes
grander than life
Now becoming closer to Life
the blood and bone of it
Dearer to me than ever
His mind ever given to me in
his words and glance
his mind ever divine
Slower now
He contemplates—thinks more
gives more
His youthful anger quenched in the fires of Life
Remembering, I see him
running past me up the hills of Malibu
and years later how shocked I was to walk past him up the hill
as he stopped to catch his breath
Not much air left
lungs hot and panting their fill of heavy grass smoke
Smoldering, the fire blazed
turning his mind brash
Burning his lungs to ash
Now weary from his walk
he lies back
eyes closed
wrapped in my grey black cloak
Many times I’ve glimpsed the death mask of him
His mighty face carved, etched with
his engravers medium of Honesty
His quest for Truth the etching acid, creating the lines
Yes, lines deepened, features in bas relief
as the ancient stone statues of Greece and Rome
Beauty in animalism
There in his face, there in his hands
resting, almost floating on the cloak,
Slowly he sips his tea
Life returns
Hot on the pursuit of truth
Alive, excited
He wants to know
And, although he doesn’t do it,
I see him running to me—
holding a thought in his hand to show me
Ah child/father, man of mine
Man divine
Mind excited questing the Truth of Ourselves
“You must love Life more than me,” he said.
Seeking the Saving of Ourselves
Will I learn before he’s dead?
He doodles on a page, strange funny-looking cartoon characters
I laugh as I see them form
funny extensions of his father’s failures
the cartoon then says,
“I love Arol”
I laugh again
only this time it’s with love…