Quando Sono Solo....For M And For Sergei R Poem by r james sterzinger

Quando sono solo
e mancan le parole
tu mia luna, tu sei qui con me'

(When I am alone
and words fail me
my sun, you are here with me)

From the chapel, still in the light
Still alive, walking down the path
After a summer morning service
Sky, gray, wind, north-northwest, and cool
We walk down the path toward our cars

She turns, asks, as the wind plays with her hair
'So where do you want to be buried? '
I point to the left
'There, near the road'.
Knowing, full well if
Christ returns from the east
As they say He will, I am in trouble
Though, I seem to always be on His left.

I leave go down toward the west
Rachmaninoff plays on the car stereo

Home now.
A bluebird lies dead
On the sidewalk
I bend over, stare at him
His eye reflects the light
His beak still bright orange
His feathers, blue, rich like the sky
Between the clouds
Dead, to be sure, but still beautiful
I bury him in the back, safe from cats

I am a little sad for him
Only me to morn
This is being alone. This is grief...

I, myself, am quite happy today
Thinking someday of being bones
at Stinson Blvd., near the black gates,
Near the chapel.

As long as on summer mornings,
The choir's chants yet wind around the stones and crosses
Incense clouding in the air
Lying still with friends and others.

Knowing after coffee and maybe a brownie
You will look to the left and smile
Remembering, when you asked,
Where I wanted to wait eternity.....