Covid is waning, said Bob.
As optimistic as the dahlias out front.
Smiling brightly in mid- October.
Though fated to dry and fall.
He continued, now we can use the train. Go to the theater. See friends.
I knew that Covid was still with us.
It was we who were waning.
But I was silent.
Anticipating the promise of being with friends.
We continued in the car.
Heading toward Chestnut Hill.
Where rain, leaves fell in equal measure.
Racing to outdo each other.
Leaf piles, puddles.
We walked several blocks.
Crunching, struggling to stay dry.
Till ascending steps to our hosts’ home.
Sanctuary, fire blazing.
Where three couples gathered.
To dine in highest style.
Discuss the world and each other.
Autumn abundance, heading into winter.
Holding collective experiences of six lifetimes.
Overflowing with compassion for hurt, oppressed.
For young, loved ones who move in directions.
Other than our own.
For, in truth, we snapped up opportunities.
Forged paths different from our parents’.
Made choices, some mistakes, some triumphs.
Those that follow will do the same.
It’s our turn to bless.
Honor, accept, grant well-being.
While giving thanks for our own eyes, hands, minds.
Enabling us to let in light, cradle innocents.
Trust countless trellises.
That keep us steady.
So we can bolster progeny.
Sustained and now sustaining,
gardeners bracing flowers.
Mercy and loving kindness
are truly what matters.
Lynn Benjamin
October 17, 2023
