back alley sessions: from my series 'family'

_____________________________

grandpa

i remember
new york summers
living with my
grandparents
on long island
far from the city
my grandfather
gentle farmer
shovel in one hand
old handkerchief in the other
tilling the earth
wiping his face
bending
seeds between his fingers
hands into the dirt
he loved his garden
would show with pride
his tomatoes
large round ripe
years later
i would sit
for hours
alone
in my garden
watching
the green shoots
push their way
through the dirt
thinking
about grandpa
remembering
smiling
loving him
missing
the innocence
of
our friendship

___________________________________________

am i right ?

new york city
we lived above an empty store
on the avenue
four of us
in a two bedroom apartment
winters
cold and damp
hot water heating
the pipes
that
always seemed
to hiss at us
daddy
slept on the couch
between jobs
days for the city
full time
nites for extra money
part time
(he was a good man)
i remember
my father
(step-father really)
a smiling man
who always seemed angry
he was hard working
capable of a good time
although not
with me
or
my mother
or
my sister
(half-sister really)
he had large hands
a tall wide frame
and muscles
beautiful salt and pepper hair
and a voice
loud enough
to frighten the soul
from a little boy

there were
rules
and somehow
i managed
to break all of them
(often)
feeling like an afterthought
(usually)
i couldn’t do much
right
couldn’t hold the flashlite
so the beam
was in
the right place
couldn’t pass the right tool
when demanded
even though
the shapes
names
and reasons for being
were never
described to me
i always guessed
i wasn’t
smart enough
to have been born
with the same information
as every one else
at 46
i’m still treated
the same as
when i was 12
but for me
its different now
i’m no longer
intimidated
no longer
afraid
to ask
the questions
that need
to be asked
my only
fear
is
following
in his footsteps

________________________________

family tree

neil diamond
sang
brooklyn roads
opened my soul
to sleeping memories
i ache
remembering
the smells
and sounds
seeing again
the faces
of my family
long dead
buried
deep in my being
grandfather
sicilian
new york
factory worker
garment district
born in africa
tunisia
fisherman
loved the sea
as he loved the earth
gardener
big smile
strong hands
friendly to children
asthmatic
gentle soul in pain

grandmother
scowling
lined face
hard worker
cook & cleaner
3 sons
2 dead
1 my father
the other
an uncle i never met
remaining uncle
like a second dad
my memories are of
sunday dinners
pasta
homemade
sauce
homemade
wine
homemade
love
homemade

_____________________________________

edge

we were prepared
waiting
old news old information
doctors orders
the ordeal
the pain
the wait
sometimes
we acted
as if

as if everything
were ok
as if everything
would just go
away
as if you
would never
leave

but you left
died
now
i am alone
my parents are dead
am i an orphan
or just old