Tag Archives: Regret

DANTE’S 9TH INNING STRETCH

DANTE’S 9TH INNING STRETCH

In life there are errors
errors and regrets
and then there is baseball

The ball off the end of the glove
the errant throw, any errant throw

The running into the other fielder
and the ball dropping between

The not being willing
to run into the other fielder
and the ball dropping between

The not tagging up at third

The easy dribbler down the first base line
and knees that won’t let you bend to pick

The ball that was called a strike
the strike that was called a ball

For Catholics there’s Purgatory
with constant replay of regret

For baseball fans
there’s late October to forever

BREATHING IN WINTER

BREATHING IN WINTER

In Saskatchewan in winter
your breath is certainly plain to see

And while I don’t actually believe the story
that you can warm it in a frying pan
and hear all the words again

I can’t help thinking how nice it would be
if I could just inhale really, really hard

And get back that awful dumb thing
I said to you this morning

THE FIRST MOTHERS DAY AFTER THE LAST MOTHERS DAY

THE FIRST MOTHERS DAY AFTER THE LAST MOTHERS DAY

Slowly it dawns on Sunday morning
that you didn’t call nearly often enough
and didn’t send nearly enough cards
or thank her nearly enough

And even if
you put the cattle racks
on the big grain truck
and filled it with flowers
till it ran over all four sides

Even if you drove it to the cemetery
and dumped the whole damn load
on her single rose grave
it wouldn’t be anywhere near enough

IN MEMORY STILL

IN MEMORY STILL
(or computers byte)

You keep popping up in my memory

On old disks I find love notes
still as loving as when they were entered

Faxes, letters, poems, thoughts
full of beauty full of trust

Valentine’s poems, three of them
overflowing with sensual exaltation
wisdom exchanged, depths plumbed,
promises made

Fresh and clean and bright
as the day they were written
lines that would go on forever
lines that still do go on forever

I don’t know how to tell the little ones
and zeros that we’re now apart
it might break their heart

A BOAT CALLED TRUTH

A BOAT CALLED TRUTH

We have know and loved each other
deeply all these years

Each one or both always honouring some
relationship with someone else

So we never quite say it
and we never quite do it

One sunny day in Santa Barbara harbour
we see the name “TRUTH” on a pretty boat

We take each other’s pictures by the stern
but we never get on the boat