(untitled #32) Poem by bob barci

(untitled #32)


With pleasure
he sits out on the porch.
The early evening weather
is just starting to cool down.
He doesn’t mind -
just as long as he can
feel the evening breeze
against his skin.
He wonders about the porch sittings to come.
Will he be able
to see more stars this year?
Will the raccoons he saw last year
come back to visit him?
Will his porch become
the “in” place to be again?
He looks up at the powder blue sky,
and for some reason,
the clouds seem whiter and fluffier than usual.
Something in the wind
brings him the memory of departed relatives.
He smiles broadly at the sky
and winks at the clouds.
And, as he looks upward,
a single teardropp escapes his eye,
he is filled with an incredible feeling
and the knowledge that
those departed loved ones
are up there, looking down,
saying hello, and welcoming him
back out to the porch.