A Poem by Betty Glaz

Deja Vue

She saw him from the kitchen window

before he saw her. He was driving

a strange car and a dog was on the passenger seat.

They leapt from the driver’s side and came to the house.

“Hey Mom” he beamed, “got any coffee?

I’m tired and thirsty.”

He got a cereal bowl from the cupboard,

filled it with water, and set it on the floor

for the dog, a large white German Shepherd

whose long tail dusted the orange linoleum.

He drank noisily.

“Who’s car is that? And get that damn dog

out of here,” she said turning from the sink.

He sat at the kitchen table and offered an explanation.

“The car belongs to a friend of mine. You don’t know him.

I had to borrow a car to bring Crazy Horse along for I need to

leave him here for a while. I’ve got the urge again to wander,

to look for work in another state since

I’m not making any money here.” A laugh originated from his belly.

“He’ll be here for just a little while, until I get back

on my feet. He’ll be a guard dog for you and Dad.

He’ll keep you safe while I go off in search of fame

and fortune,” he laughed once again.

She took a doubtful step, then undid it.

“Hhrumph,” she mumbled, her thin lips

in a grimace, her eyes dark, moody, perplexed.

“Well, take him out there and tie him up

under that sycamore tree down by the stream.

And fill up that big bucket with water.”

“Come on, Crazy Horse. You heard what the woman said.”

She watched the two of them walk down to the bottom

of the hill, her son whistling a tune, where he tied up

the big dog with the rusty chain left

over from the previous dog that died –

from a gunshot wound to its head,

simply for breaking his bonds

and straying from the farm

a few times too many.

Death in the Family

My brother-in-law passed away early this morning in Florida. He had been ill for some time.

He leaves behind his wife, three daughters and several grandchildren. My husband is his only remaining sibling out of eleven children of Polish immigrants.

The week started so promising and ends with the tragic death of an 86-year-old man. He seemed so vibrant when we saw him and his wife in early December. He was between hospital stays at the time. But he was alive and talkative. His usual self, slowed down a bit by his age and health issues.

Life is so precious, from a newborn baby to the elderly among us. Cherish each moment with loved ones . . . for you never know when the end will come.

Eternal rest grant unto him, O Lord, and let perpetual light shine upon him. May his soul and the souls of all the mercy departed rest in peace. Amen.