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Friday, August 14, 2009

Lines written for a dear friend's birthday

If you see him popping wheelies
in his mother's chair, you get right away

here is a man to be reckoned with.
His hands convey skill and strength

yet with finesse, or shall I say, with kindliness.
I've watched his eyes

sweep across all manner of confusion
and light upon that one detail

that will provide everyone present
with some portion of orderliness

obtained with a good dollop of -- honor.
It's a thing to be known for, to have

leadership and class without barriers,
that elusive thing the politicians

stretch for and miss, again and again;
you could call it democracy, but couldn't

if no one present had such vision.
Here among the winter-green things

when you stand with him, listening to them grow,
you know

exactly where you are in place, in time:
it is his heart, his heart, his heart.


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