Alums Submit Original Poems

Photo by iStock/Milan Markovic
Alums Submit Original Poems
Scores respond to Bostonia’s call for poetry on the theme of gratitude
In the last issue of Bostonia, we asked you to submit an original poem on the theme of gratitude. We were thrilled with—and grateful for—the response! Some 80 alums sent us their verses. They were creative, thoughtful, and full of heart—at turns funny, wistful, honest, and hopeful. Our space in the print magazine allowed us to publish only a handful. But all of the poems submitted are here. Please take a moment to read them, share them, and start a conversation in the Comment section.
We have a new request. Do you have a treasured BU memento—an old banner, sweatshirt, image, or yearbook? Send a photo and a description of four or five sentences by December 22 to bostonia@bu.edu. Please write “BU memento” in the subject line and include your name, school(s) and year(s) of graduation, and where you live. We’ll publish the photos in the winter–spring magazine. Thank you!
For the Sun
I think I need to tend the garden,
oh, can I call it mine?
I offer care, water, earth
the rest is Sun and time
A life to live is no small thing,
though small things are treasures, too
to wonder, breathe, and hold, and sing,
to wake up facing you
Rebecca Sparks (CAS’18), Baltimore, Md.
In times like these, yet
We must face the wind head on.
A tree on the peak.
Trauma seeps in like
Dirty water. Why does the
flower still grow? Love.
John Arsenault (CAS’96), Reno, Nev.
Gratitude at Seventy-Six
You ask me what my life is like today
And I flash back to all the fun we had:
The whiskey, song, the moonlit nights in May.
I was a lass, a quine; you were a lad.
Some years, it’s true, I traveled ’round the world
To Hong Kong, Casablanca, and Peru,
On buses, trains, and ships with sails unfurled,
In twosomes, solo, sometimes with full crew.
To touch a glacier was the greatest thrill.
Young gannets screeching, swallows on the line,
St. Kilda’s cleits seen from atop the hill—
The treasures of the planet seemed all mine.
But, to your question. Now, my life’s like this:
A homemade soup, brown bread, some cheese—pure bliss.
Anne Wheelock (SSW’75), Jamaica Plain, Mass.
This is life as I know it
cruel and benevolent, uncertain and beautiful
I will bow and break, sprout and shed
help and be helped, miss and mend
I will lean into the sweet as deep as the sour
love and be loved, hold and be held
This is life in gracious abundance
my people and I, we will honor it
and we will revel in it
Asé.
Vivien Solomon (SPH’20), Arizona
College Student and Parents Gratitude Meet
Excitement and relief is in her face and stride.
Her parents orchestrate a campus drop-off and dorm
move-in absent the drama and stress of their college past.
The body language and smiles tell—
both generations are grateful for the prior mistakes of their parents.
Grateful for the simple pleasure of being on campus in person.
Thomas Lehrich (Questrom’87), Washington, D.C.
International Shipment
I paid a small amount for the shipment.
It had my life Bubble-Wrapped inside it.
Crazy, I thought. To be so vigilant
About life—underpriced and discounted.
It read fragile, upside down, on the box.
The instructions were missing. Typical.
No returns. No exchange. Limited stock.
How do I assemble this miracle?
For Derek Walcott (Hon.’93)
Faraz Maqsood Hamidi (COM’92), London/Karachi/Dubai
What’s Your Favorite BU Memento?
Do you have a treasured BU memento or artifact—an old banner, sweatshirt, yearbook, photo? Send a photo and a description of four to five sentences by November 1, 2022, to bostonia@bu.edu. Please write “BU memento” in the subject line, and include your name, school(s) and year(s) of graduation, and where you live. We’ll publish a selection of your submissions in the Winter–Spring 2023 magazine and online. Thank you!
So
We are an age in this house
floors shined with pacing
paths stamped upon each carpet
banisters gleamed
by trailing hands
Barred by picture windows
And the clear mysterious air
What is not present
is allowed as lost
we know where by rote
the things we need will be
Michael Bills (CAS’81), Boulder, Colo.
une ode à l’écriture
when society disappoints me
and life’s contents condense into
corrosive droplets of harsh solvents,
pen and page become my refuge,
and catharsis ensues. and
when my ink has dried,
I then think about moving the
needle of progress with sound mind,
bolstered by the clarity of calm
in the darkest of times.
Asma Bashir, PhD (CAS’14), Halifax, Nova Scotia
Gratitude
I look with gratitude on the jagged scratch
running the length of the little car
that carries my son across town
to learn in the daytime
and earn minimum wage at night.
All possible alternatives—
perfection on the one hand,
destruction on the other—
are just too horrible
to contemplate.
Kurt Blumenau (COM’95, CAS’95), Millis, Mass.
Lost in thought in blue and bronze
She lies amongst the moss and ponds
Her fingers hold the stones and thread
She can’t remember what she’d said.
The dreams of horses, houses, lakes
Dreams of costumes, wigs and snakes
Her love of storms and trees and grief
This precious life, so sweet, so brief.
Jody Gelb (CFA’78), San Mateo, Calif.
A Thankful Mom
At the ripe old age of fifty-two,
Suddenly everything looks new.
Blessed to have watched my children grow,
Have I taught them all they need to know?
Of course not, so their adventures begin—
One in Arkansas, one in Michigan.
Both born in Beantown, but away we went,
To Pittsburgh, St. Louis—our time happily spent.
Grateful for the years but boy how they flew,
And if only one had chosen BU!
Juli Dyer Luke (GRS’00), Kirkwood, Mo.
Thanksgiving
Sun dances through clear-glass door
flagged by palm fronds waving
webbed arms to bladed banana
Leaf-shadows lounging on fence—
a morning thief dropping red petals
on clipped lawn Indian orchid hearts
rolling wind circumambulating
my south and yours warm jamun
leaves gyrating on weathered paling
Sasenarine Persaud (GRS’06), Tampa, Fla.
Breathing in Gratitude
Purple panicles
Call to me with heady scent
Grateful, I inhale
Michelle N. Remeny (CAS’95), Newton, Mass.
Supply Chain Haiku
When you’re out of cheese…
a big tub of Feta is
better than flowers.
Susan Johnston Taylor (COM’05), Austin, Tex.
Rock and Roll
Gratitude is a verb…
It shakes down arrogance,
dances with humility,
whispers of hope,
saves lives in the darkest of moments,
pushes the soul toward change,
walks hand in hand with forgiveness,
and smacks upside the head
when necessary.
Let’s roll.
Wanda Springer (SSW’05), Rhode Island
The Web
I wake at three when thunder shakes me into thinking
once again how I would do without you, how I might live
in this house alone, get up and turn the coffee on, set out
one cup, the other just a shadow on the kitchen counter. How
would I raise the shade, open myself to a world without you in it?
And the bird at the feeder—who might I praise his beauty to, but you?—
this woodpecker coming for his meal of suet, unaware we humans
share this moment like a morning prayer, unspoken, for fear
he’ll scare and fly, that something in his fright might tear
the web, invisible, that holds our lives together.
Lee McAden Robinson (CAS’70), Comfort, Tex.
Gratitude?
They say an appropriate attitude
Is one of gargantuan gratitude,
So pure and undying.
But I would be lying
To say I’m complying.
In fact I’m defying
What I see as one more pop platitude.
It isn’t that I’m never grateful
For some things, but so much is hateful.
Our freedom’s eroding.
Inflation’s exploding.
The climate’s imploding.
I’m filled with foreboding.
Let’s face it! We all have a plateful!
Ilene Siegalovsky (COM’80)
death poem
death poem? I always
walked this Earth knowing heaven
was above me, hell
beneath. I fling myself through
with fear and admiration.
David Carroll (CAS’73), Dexter, Mich.
Just Desserts
At all times, I aim to be grateful.
When I can, I avoid being hateful.
True his body is nicer
He subsists on brown rice, sir.
While I enjoy cake by the plateful.
Gary Cohen (Questrom’90), Bronx, N.Y.
musINGS
breathing,walking,talking,thinking
writing,drawing,painting,sculpting
seeing,watching,hearing,listening
liking,loving,caring,sharing
helping,giving,learning
smiling,laughing,feeling
dreaming,wishing
remembering…
Sande (Visnick) Cohen (COM’61), Worcester, Mass.
The Fishing Lesson
He taught me how to fish,
How to hook my dreams,
How to net my possibilities,
How to wade thru cloudy streams.
He taught me how to fish,
How to gut mistakes,
How to cast off doubt,
How to select bountiful lakes.
He taught me how to fish,
To recognize good catch,
To throw back what is lacking,
To tackle a good match.
He taught me how to fish,
To recognize good bait,
He taught me how to unhook fish
And to recognize my Fate!
Patricia J (Kenny) Anderson (CFA’88), Waxhaw, N.C.
Glorious Morning Bloom
Woke up by bird chirping at dawn
Open the petals Ready
for the bee, and the sun
to do the intercrossings
and photosynthesizing
Together, we would produce
After the summer solstice,
the True beauty for the world
Hide treasure under the wood
for later a nice surprise
Why do you bloom at the sun,
Fall in sleep under the moon?
To amaze and boost my mood?
Feed me with smile, materials?
That, I owe you gratitude!
Shouts of joy as a grower
watch the growth everywhere
A process, year after year
Of the time, circle of life
of seeing and believing
Danqing Xiao (GRS’03), Jamaica Plain, Mass.
Yoga Class
In the pose of a child
Unexpected tears welled up
And streamed down my face
Supposedly grieving
For the flexible, young woman
No longer evident
As quickly as they came
The tears stopped
When I remembered to breathe
Through the breath
Those stiff
Immovable places softened
Through the breath
I discovered a vibrant
Energetic woman
Of eighty still here
And I embraced her
Knowing
She is
Still
Ever
My child
Susan Surman (CFA’60), Winston-Salem, N.C.
7 am from The Hours
To take you, my groins strained and torn ligaments
Crying. We begin with your furtive search
For a small tube of jellied lubrication
And me pretending not to notice
Though it makes everything feel as good as the old days
Of our youth. Growing older together
Is responsible timing, new wrinkles yoked
To weakening vision. Everything evens out as it fails,
What you don’t want me to see I can’t see
What you don’t want me to do I can’t do.
Michael Salcman (CAS’69, MED’69), Baltimore, Md.
First Drive
Today I took my very first drive
After being in quarantine…I felt so alive
I didn’t expect to feel so free
And finally back to being me
Curious, observant and having some fun…
The drudgery felt lifted as I soaked up the sun.
Although my trip wasn’t long
It was great to drive while singing a song
It’s the simple things I now adore
I hope in time there’s many more
Peggy Dalton (Wheelock’76), Berwick, Maine
Full
After running on empty,
we’re not yet full.
Adding fuel comes at a cost.
Taking on more, but doing less—
often feeling less than our best.
But the needle is pointing up,
we’re starting to feel full.
Calendar full of dinners and drinks with family and friends.
Full stadiums, full theaters, with full hearts full of hope—
grateful for how far we’ve come and for the road ahead…
Harris Aaron (COM’00, LAW’00), Yardley, Pa.
A BU SPH Haiku Triplet
Doors open widely
Welcome opportunities
I’m a BU grad!
School of Public Health
Promotes expertise, justice
Think. Teach. Do. Repeat.
Learning never stops
Miracles of public health
Thanks to you, BU!
Elizabeth Sommers (SPH’89,’10)
Gratitude
In the morning, I pull the drapes; here comes the light.
I breathe the air, delicious, from the sea.
Then green envelops me outside my window; sometimes a bird looks
back.
I turn my head left to the ocean merging with the sky.
I offer my gratitude for this serenity; that life has brought me here.
This world has so many people with lives of hardship; damaged,
suffering, starving.
I want to imagine that the power of gratitude helps.
Zelda Franck Klapper (CAS’59), La Jolla, Calif.
With a grateful heart I raise my eyes to the sky.
With soulful breath I let my spirits rise.
No matter the size or where I am standing,
That patch of sky is my ascending landing.
Blue planet’s bliss now in my view,
Whether clouded, raining or black and blue.
With a peace-filled heart I acknowledge the Maker,
Tuck the sky in my heart…forever grateful.
Kathy de Sano Mahoney (Wheelock’68)
Gratitude
Gratitude is all about attitude
Something we should all gravitate to
A smile, a handshake, makes it known
Our emotions are in the appropriate zone
Whatever be, whether up or down
Gratitude emotions should never be bound
So, live life to the fullest each day of the year
Remembering gratitude both far and near
When all is said and all is done
Keep gratitude emotions on the run
David Giuliarelli (Wheelock’02), Ashley, Pa.
Thankfulness in a Teller Line
How much gratefulness exists…
Looking around things might seem so dim and so bleak.
Yet even the simplest event can transform with a tweak.
A phone call here, a telemarketer there, even a bill on recycled paper this year.
From the beauty of leaves falling off a tree, to waiting in line at a bank,
or a letter from you-to-me might unlock a spark, he-he-he.
To no longer stay trapped spiraling in a world of hate,
there is no guaranteed change we can make.
And maybe we can just want to feel good again,
without resorting to too much cake.
David Binette (MET’15), Winchester, Mass.
Pay attention to the little things:
the unexpected bear hug from a loving spouse,
my daughter’s voice greeting me—seeing me,
the cold nose “holding hands” walking with me, and
the shared history and unconditional love of family
seasoned with the loyalty and candor of old friends—
and then of course there is the wonder of
hummingbirds visiting my flowers, monarchs swarming before migrating south
and always the music, the poetry of life that
Leaves me with grateful smiles through tears
Joanne Walsh (Questrom’82), Milford, Conn.
In Gratitude
Pausing to embrace the moment in a warm hug.
I feel fully the exchange of comfort it provides.
Senses heightened.
Defenses lowered.
Appreciation for what has been and what will be envelops me.
Gretchen Poage (CAS’90), Morris Plains, N.J.
Gratitude Beyond my Tribe
My tribe taught me to be grateful.
Then I made my tribe grateful.
Those were first steps.
My path goes beyond tribe now.
The planet too teaches gratitude.
May I bring gratitude to the world,
And a bit of Heaven on Earth.
Mark Thomas Word (STH’87), Parkstein, Bavaria, Germany
Morning Grace
Like a loaf out of an oven, the sun rose out
of the dawn warming and lighting the field
that rolled like the sea down the hill
toward an unexplored landscape.
Wild turkeys foraged in the tall grasses,
with steam rising from the dew
that made the field glisten.
A tablecloth unfurled out of thin air.
I sat down to write a “thank you”
to the host of this place.
Georgia Gojmerac-Leiner (STH’11), Natick, Mass.
Golden Moments, Silver Light
Across the globe, nature tests us with floods, fires and a pandemic.
This is how we live now—in the shadow of caution and uncertainty.
And though we have been laid low by illness, fear and isolation, we recognize
golden moments when birds sing, children play and sleep refreshes our spirits.
With grateful voices, we thank the nurses, doctors, essential workers, first responders
and teachers who rescued us. We must learn how to save ourselves and each other.
Daily, we reclaim our lives and carve new paths. We delight in the sun, moon and stars,
ocean waves and fragrant flowers. Slowly, lights switch on in our skyscrapers.
We vow to cherish each moment—small or large—and not to take our lives for granted.
Silver light pushes back the shadows, filling us with hope as we rebuild our world together.
Robin Mayer Stein (LAW’78), Newtonville, Mass.
Gratitude
Amid tragedy and chaos, a world spinning out of control
Looking inward at what surrounds each of us daily
Often family and friends perhaps taken for granted
Now cherished, having been paused in pandemic
Renewed sense of time and place
That affects our waking hours
Brings value beyond redemption
Mind and hearts
Have been
Blessed
Tom Lyons (MET’76)
G-R-A-T-I-T-U-D-E
Thank You, God, for another day.
There’s Room to improve in many a way.
May All the things I say or do.
Be Truly representing You!
You’re My Inspiration (that’s no lie)!
You Teach us how to live and die!
I first Understood the IDEAL-“ness” of You.
Next came the Divine and the REAL-“ness” of You!
For Eternity You ARE our Father ever after:
Through Pain or through Peace or through Love or through Laughter!
Philip S. Fisher (CFA’70), Pearland, Tex.
Gratitude
In this life as it is
Some moments cause pause
Elected reflection,
Experiencing noticing—
The awe of nature, a hand lifted, an act of kindness
Someone’s creativity expressed as a gift of art, music or words.
We see, when we look closely
Gratitude is an attitude of thankfulness
A conscious act
In this life as it is.
Lawrence J. Lad (Questrom’81,’85)
So Many to Thank on My Road of Life
The caring, hardworking parents in our small, safe town.
The principal and pastor who saw college in my future in spite of no money.
The mail carriers who delivered their mimeographed letters to hundreds of colleges.
The several deans who said, “Come anyway, we want you!”
The profs at Syracuse U who said, “Go to BUST for your master’s.”
The education at BU that enabled me to succeed as a local pastor for 41 years.
The loving wife by my side as we worked and traveled.
The pension system that allows me to relax at 86.
The 5 sons and 10 grandchildren as they grow.
Thank you to all including Boston University.
I am the luckiest person I have ever known, and I am truly grateful!
David Allen Hollenbeck (STH’62), Chelmsford, Mass.
BU Blessings
Thanks to my BU Professors
In the School of Theology
I have recognized the ancient Jews
As having identified the God
That Jesus understood so personally.
Jesus realized that the God of creation
Was moved by Love. And so,
In the two great commandments
He expressed the Loving way of being of creators,
God the Creator and God’s creatures the creators.
Denis Jenssen (STH’05)
Grace
A quickening of twilight and clouds.
Raindrops paint the steaming sidewalk.
It is grace,
a soft wind rising through still trees,
Drawing us to joy
so powerful and undiluted,
like ache and yearning
to our mortal hearts.
Raymond Joshua Wootton (GRS’86,’91), Cambridge, Mass.
Grateful to be Unbound
Unbound and free to soar; no longer tethered to Earth’s solidity,
I’m now buoyant, weightless, and airborne
Released from the firm hand of gravity, my feet lift me off the ground
Instead of holding me tightly within its grasp
Moving with the wind, I sail among the trees
Flitting higher toward the rising sun and through the billowing clouds
Unleashed from the Earth’s firmament and freed from waving grasses, brittle stones, and gravely soil
The wind claims me and pushes me ever onward
I glide on its air currents unfettered…and fly toward infinity and beyond; free, liberated, and unbound!
And for this glorious freedom, I am grateful.
Beverly J. Headen-Moss (CFA’73), Silver Spring, Md.
Present
(after attending Josh Groban’s concert on eighteenth of July)
At the Orion Amphitheater
I heard your voice loud and clear.
My unending past, heartbreak, insecurities
Fear of the unknown, solace, tangled ties.
To hear you on that unusually cool July night
Was like unexpected showers and light.
“when all that you need to love Is in front of your eyes
It’s in front of your eyes.”
Your February Song too
Brings me back to present.
Inkyung Kim (Sargent’02), Madison, Ala.
The woman in the study acknowledged the talking figures on her screen
The man in the kitchen pinched his fingers together to get a closer look at the ingredients
The dog raced about all the available rooms in comic-book fashion
They all zoomed quite differently that day
As the lazy cat yawned, grateful for comfy windowsills and warm sunbeams.
Rev. Mark C. Brockmeier (MET’04, STH’12)
Concerto
Drops of rain descend on roof tiles above
Awakening under their symphony
Stimulating desires of making love
Nature inducing blissful harmony.
As melodic breaths rhythmically merge
Bringing outdoor precipitation in
Causing the senses and storm to converge
Conjuring thoughts of original sin
Seduced by external fruits of this kind,
Gratitude conducts orchestras of mind.
K.M.V.R (MET’96), Royal Palm Beach, Fla.
BU for You
BU for Me
Be You for Whomever
You want to Be.
(In fond memory of Judi Kaye (CAS’72), a spirit who inspires us all.)
Michael Harris (CAS’72, GRS’92)
About Gratitude
Why should I be grateful?
Haven’t I created my life?
I quiet my ego and breathe. My heart does not beat because of me. I can stop the action, but I can’t create this wonder.
I stand humbled by my life
And reflect on what I have.
Gratitude washes over me and
I am Peace, I am Joy, I am Love.
Suzanne Ridgewell (MET’91), Santa Clarita, Calif.
OK?
Don’t think of “Thank You.”
Think of those thoughtful
Things you left undone.
You should get them done
Those small thoughtful things.
Who cares if it’s not
Who you think you are.
But it could be you.
But do not ask me.
Richard Boutwell (CAS’73, GRS’77), Melrose, Mass.
G: God’s Amazing grace deepens my gratitude for:
R: Riches of head and heart and treasures I cannot touch or see
A: Ancestors who were rooted in faith, hope and charity and left an inspiring legacy
T: Truth, though twisted, denied or crushed that does not change
I: Inner peace and strength to survive the pandemic and these turbulent times
T: Technology that enhances my well-being and potential for graceful aging
U: Undaunted warriors resisting evil, injustice, and violence unite to fight for what is right
D: Dedicated, ordinary, and extraordinary people who sacrificed beyond the call of duty and gave their best
E: Everything beautiful, essential, exciting, and life eternal.
Viola Williams Haywood (SSW’57), Kingston, N.Y.
Unspoken Words
Gratitude is a feeling we experience every day.
Sometimes voiced, but unspoken words is more oft the style.
Yet it brings us such joy; and it removes dismay.
There is so much to be grateful for.
And yes, we have challenges to keep at bay.
But why to gratitude do we close the door.
Think of how feeling it makes you smile.
Take the time and express that feeling more.
Remember, unspoken words aren’t just for a while.
Michael Wright (CAS’78), Boscawen, N.H.
I Bow
I bow.
I bow to the breeze passing through the treetops,
to the delight in children’s laughter.
I bow to the love in intimate glances,
to the caring in a hand on a shoulder.
I bow to all beauty unseen but felt.
to the wonder of life itself
I bow.
Dorothy Gerstle Taylor (Wheelock’56), Abington, Mass.
Grateful
Ninety Years and Beyond
I am grateful that my heart is still beating
and I’m having a long life
with many pleasures and little strife.
Walking close by the Charles River
watching little children as they play
makes me feel so very glad
to again be out and about
and of that I have no doubt!
Babette Gelles (nee Babette Pearl Lapidus) (CAS’53), Wellesley Hills, Mass.
The Good Pain
The painful knot slips down my leg
slowing me to the pace of an old man
sitting at a table in the garden watching
happy squirrels leap from tree to tree.
I’m grateful for doctors and druggists
everywhere and a calm wife carrying
lunch on a tray and the September sun
shining its hopeful rays on all of us
John Cuetara (Wheelock’81,’89), W. Medford, Mass.
Gratitude
Gratitude is a state of mind
That cannot easily be defined.
It’s not a goal to be achieved
Nor a gift to be received.
It’s not a matter of dollars and cents,
Or breaking news and current events.
It’s not a matter of fame and pride,
But rather something we feel inside:
It’s knowing that life is all worthwhile
And saying “thank you” with a smile.
Rivkah Fishman (nee Gertrude R. Stabiner) (MET’87), Lake Grove, N.Y.
Husband
Loving, faithful, patient, kind,
You’re as far ahead as I am behind,
In body, soul, and mind.
In a place I aspire to be,
Unburdened, free,
Unquestioning why you’re still with me
All these years, an unwavering core,
Despite the herculean chore,
Of being pillar to a caving floor.
Emily Dreeling (MET’16), Los Gatos, Calif.
Gratitude
So deeply grateful
to God, for His comfort, love,
And grace for sharing.
Tracey (Alexander) Keefe (CAS’91), Tehachapi, Calif.
Garden
Each day beginning—Hummingbirds feed, continuous movement precisely still flight; nectar to survive
Bloomed flowers, buds fret the deer’s dawn feeding; holding for sunlight
Sunrays warmth, tickling sweat trickles, out of torpor; hearts are beating
Cobblestone pathway focus within, connections and care; bringing out beauty
Trust without knowing, nature through senses learn and grow; embrace a peaceful universe—Grateful for We
Maxine A Pichaske (Wheelock’08), Assonet, Mass.
Just Because
why do we watch the river flow
we don’t want to know
where it is going
why do we look up at the stars,
stare down the canyon,
soak up the sunshine,
get blown down by the wind
because
there is no need for why
under the sky
Madeleine Keville (Questrom’73), Johnson, Vt.
Life
residing in a
beautifully carved box
covered with colored paper and bows rising from our past
embracing the now
reaching for the future if so weep for joy
not despair
Richard E. Brown (CFA’58), Stockton Springs, Maine
About Bats
Dark is night
The flock takes flight
Click / eat insects
Swoop / spread seeds
Dive / pollinate plants
Without bats, bugs rule; gone are fruits, too
If there was nary a bat that would be scary…
Swish zoom zip, back to the cave we go
Our work is done
Does anyone know?
Robin Brett (Parnes) Wechsler (SPH’98), Wellesley, Mass.
Thankful
I fight depression every day.
Sometimes, I win. Sometimes, I lose. Sometimes, we call it a draw and move on.
I’m thankful:
Thankful for a wife who knows when to give me space and when to smother me with attention.
Thankful for our children, now young adults, who allow me to still be an integral part of their lives.
Thankful for our grandkids who give me pure joy!
Thankful for old friends who embellish the past and new friends who expand the future.
I dance with depression every night.
Sometimes, I lead. Sometimes, I follow.
I’m just thankful the music still plays.
Joe Fusco, Jr. (COM’76), Worcester, Mass.
Weekend at Wolfboro
Sparkling clear water, trees and bright sun;
Sand, boats, and card games, lots of fun.
Weekend getaway with a family with a wonderful friend;
Healing, relaxing, feeling on the mend.
Lunches and dinners out on the town;
Ice cream, long walks, sea planes going up & down.
Conversing, learning and sharing thoughts and ideas;
These will all help as we go together through the years.
All are the memories I will take home today;
Relaxed and grateful is how I hope to stay.
Elaine (Pave) Levin (CFA’63), Sharon, Mass.
Ode to Mill Brook
A summertime trickle or a grey torrent after snow melt and
rain, it hosts banks of moss, fiddlehead and sword fern, tree
frogs shouting mating arrival, birds bathing in its ripples,
water-striders sliding like off-season ice-skaters
skimming the surface, dragonflies pirouetting a riot of color,
mallards and wood ducks dipping their heads feeding,
jewel weed dotting the bank and scarlet cardinal flowers
peeking through lush habitat before the brook is frozen and snowy
I go out to meet this place as water flows into the next day
Karen (Ross) Michelson (SSW’73), Westwood, Mass.
Gratitude
Be thankful for you.
Then absorb each little thing, too.
Change yourself from what you gather.
Allow it to change from substance to form, is the matter.
Perilous grows the form we accept as doubt.
Transforming into optimism is the route.
Happy coming from as simple as a baby step.
Avoiding turning everything around; it’s clearly open to be breadth.
Imagining becoming revelated reality.
Simply from substituting the big into small credibility.
Taking a mere step out of the world in which is offered.
Ultimately not accepting what exists for that’d be considered to be wrongly altered.
A way through a bind—a way in the direction of time.
Hoping, validating all consisting creating into a rhyme.
Connecting all the dots on a logical line.
Could this simplicity represent the sign?
Could what is revelated be divine?
A higher belonging, esteem becoming all that is mine.
Joshua Oertel (CGS’01, CAS’03), Plattsburgh, N.Y.
The Monarch butterfly migrating North, that passes my windshield,
as I back out of my driveway en route to work,
where I’m a conduit of restoration for those after surgery, or unexpected physical trauma.
From my cellphone, a text from Mom who is 88, now mostly focused on the Past, because the Present is too fleeting.
I beat the long yellow light, and fumble to find the Classical radio station.
Mozart in the morning, against the buzz and beauty of a new day.
Steven H. McCormack (SAR’84), West Hills, Calif.
Rain
The giver of nourishment.
Healer, Fountain of youth.
Sustainer of life.
Rumbling, tumbling
Harmonious pitter-patter,
Quieter,
Sweet aroma.
Cleansing of the soul.
Liquid gold
This silenced dark night.
Audrey Crossman Peck (Wheelock’90), Alpine, Calif.
Gratitude
A world of uncertainty, births our longing for inner peace.
Danger lurking, people smirking the worries never cease.
Gait unsteady, hearts pound…
Feelings of high alert, awaiting the alarm sound.
An unexpected island in the storm?
A smile, a touch, a new babe born …
Eyes wide open, to see the good.
When found, gratitude abounds, as it should
Susan Irwin Dansker (SSW’71), Los Angeles, Calif.
White Marble
The soft warmth of your lips
Is most sorely missed
When leaving my kiss
On this cold piece of stone.
Thank you sweet wife,
The love of my life,
For the gift of your life
For fifty-two wonderful years.
Marlin Wiita (MET’82), Surry, Va.
Ode to Angela
Angela, your beach hotel is like our second home.
You always greet us with a big smile,
and help us relax so our dreams will roam.
As the flock of pelicans fly by,
we’ll ask them to flap their wings,
to salute you, while still high in the sky.
Then we’ll shout out to the dolphins
to do a “double-flip” to show you their fins!
Your goodness always helps our spirits ascend.
Thanks for being such a good friend!
George M. Malacinski (CAS’62), North Carolina
Thirty years ago—
She walks down Comm Avenue.
Now-my mustache gray.
Robert Remler (CAS’77), Port Washington, N.Y.
The Sun Sought Him
The sun sought him that last January
first-month promises about moving ahead
beyond the sky’s demons
transcended warmth replacing everything:
calendar’s threats, reason’s changes,
today’s jingle, just what he needed,
wordless courage vows to his skin
akin to the future.
Leo Vanderpot (DGE’57, Wheelock’61), Croton-on-Hudson, N.Y.
(For Anita Sargent)
OK, mom, I’ll stop on my way home from school to pick up the cake for dad’s birthday dinner.
It was a great dinner, mom.
Sure, mom, I can help make the Memorial Day dinner when I am home for break from Boston University.
It was a great dinner, mom.
My finance and I are coming home for the holidays. Send me a list of groceries and I’ll get them on our way home.
It was a great dinner, mom.
Mom, why did you buy $500 worth of groceries? You forgot we’re going out to dinner for my birthday. You forgot I don’t have time to cook because I’ve got to get back to work.
It was a great dinner, mom.
The kids, my husband, and I are coming to your house for a few weeks this summer so let’s plan a big dinner. Please tell dad that the toddler-size military fatigue outfit with mini-rifle doesn’t fit Adam and, besides, West Point doesn’t accept autistic cadets. Maybe they should.
It was a great dinner, mom.
While I’m home, let’s go out to eat at your favorite restaurant. Waitress, can I have a straw for my mom to drink her water? Let me cut up your chicken dinner. Can you hold the fork by yourself or should I help you?
It was a great dinner, mom.
Dad, mom’s legs don’t work anymore so she can’t come with us for dinner. Please don’t get mad and yell at her.
It was a great dinner, mom, and we missed you.
Mom, can you hear me? Can you feel me touch your hand? Do you remember me? I’m going to help feed you some pureed brown, green, and yellow food—that’s what the skilled nurse said it was. Open your mouth and take a bite. Your favorite, ice cream, is for dessert.
It was a great dinner, mom.
It’s mom’s birthday so let’s toast to her memory and the many times we had.
It was always great dinners, mom.
Sally Kehl (CAS’87), Jenks, Okla.
The Love of Cloudy Days
I have come to like cloudy days, they invite you to nestle in their haze,
No squinting or hiding from the harsh glare of the sun, no running for the shade of trees low-slung,
The filtered soft light beckons me to nap, the light’s soft intensity perfect for that.
The green of the trees pops against the silvery sky,
The sun reposed behind its velvety blind,
I have come to like cloudy days, when once I despised their gloomy haze.
Kirk C. Rascoe (LAW’77), Wesley Chapel, Fla.
Daniel Sklar Likes
Did you know that
Daniel Sklar likes
drifting in a canoe
on Chebacco Lake?
He also likes riding a bicycle,
especially to the library.
And he likes that little beach
just outside of Rockport.
Likes Halibut Point
and Jalapenos Restaurant.
Likes walking around
old New England towns.
Likes ice cream sandwiches,
he’s addicted to them,
(don’t give him any).
Likes Henry David Thoreau
(he is funnier than you realize),
Louisa May Alcott,
Walt Whitman,
Pocahontas,
and Puck the cat,
“that merry wanderer of the night.”
(They talk to him.)
Likes hotel coffee,
blank notebooks,
and ones filled with words
and drawings.
Likes letting the grass grow,
not raking the leaves,
climbing ladders, and wrestling
with his dog, Happy,
on Blue Point Beach.
Likes hearing kids playing
baseball in the park
in the distance.
Likes hiking in the Massachusetts
woods and fields.
Likes the word moccasins
and sabotage and espionage.
Likes the mystery of
oceans and bones and stars.
Daniel Sklar (Wheelock’95), Hamilton, Mass.
The Mighty Elm Tree
the shapely branches of the elm
greet me enthusiastically
whether joyful or despairing
an umbrella of leaves providing protection
100 years old, the mighty elm silently witnesses it all
trends in fashion, politics, music, and friends
the mighty elm knows
what is meaningful changes not at all
the pleasure of strolling through winding paths
welcomed by friends
lakes, trees, plants, and flowers
yet our mighty elm lives through observation
avoiding life’s obstacles, not true
our mighty elm has its own struggles
refusing to be uprooted or yield to the wind
enduring freezing cold, brutal heat, relentless rain
before warmth, bright hues and soft breezes follow
the mighty elm knows when to observe, listen, dream,
stand stoically tall, and be grateful for its own life
Beth Pasternack (COM’80)
A Neighbor’s Gift
Her ninety-year-old hands still crochet crosses,
guiding the small hooked shaft deftly weaving
tiny threads her eyes can barely see, nor need to
after years of practicing this art learned
in her Puerto Rican childhood.
Each time I visit, she presses into my hands
another small delicate cross, her face alive
with delight at my halting gracias…bella!—
touch the only tool needed as our hands cross,
weaving invisible threads of friendship.
Carmen Dressler Ward (Wheelock’74,’93), Durham, N.C.
Those who still can breathe are grateful.
There’s a move to mute the hateful.
Parents aren’t all on the run.
Children make up their own fun.
We’ve less traffic and commuting,
Less exhaust for air’s polluting.
Dogs are happy for the company,
Online sales in the money.
So, rest awhile for what’s next.
Disease just offered a pretext.
Maureen Valls (Sargent’75), Edina, Minn.
With Gratitude
Thanksgiving Day comes once yearly
But I also can be thankful daily
With gratitude for my wife and children
Grateful for my parents and siblings
And grandparents, too
Along with teachers, mentors, friends, and strangers throughout the years
And ultimately to my God, who created me and loves me eternally
Every day is an opportunity for Thanksgiving
To whom who has invested in me and with whom I am currently investing
For gratitude brings an abundant harvest of joyful living
Joe D. Marlow (Wheelock’78), Olathe, Kans.
I have a mind, so I can think.
I have ears to listen, and eyes to see and cry.
I have a body strong enough to help.
I seek knowledge and am able to learn.
Daily, I have the opportunity to make the world better.
I am grateful to be alive and able to serve others.
William Carper, (Wheelock’75), Terre Haute, Ind.
To Lisa, with Gratitude—Ben
We have loved you safely
From the risers
Heartbeats in sync
With your baton—
Ninety voices
Pledged to rehearse
And to perform as one—
We are lifted
To a high
We could not reach
Alone.
Bennett Gurian (MED’65), Brookline, Mass.
Gratitude
Thanks to the Creator of the Universe for goodness and grace.
Thanks for blessings as we travel on life’s race.
Boston University’s faculty has planted lasting seeds.
Students return to cities to do uplifting deeds.
Thanks to the Creator, our lights illuminate peace,
As Spirits grace moves through us, love does increase.
We’re builders, united the world’s family tree,
Valuing truth that guides and sets us free.
Jean A. White (Sargent’56), Charlottesville, Va.
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