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prelude iv - how this fits
Sep. 4th, 2016 10:23 ami'm hoping that, somewhere up ahead, you'll see how this fits...
LPK
LiveJournal
9.3.2016
LPK
LiveJournal
9.3.2016
prelude iii - according to wikipedia
Sep. 3rd, 2016 09:03 am"...in greek mythology, [elysian fields is] the final resting place of the heroic and virtuous,,,"
LPK
LiveJournal
9.3.2016
LPK
LiveJournal
9.3.2016
prelude ii - my elysian fields
Sep. 2nd, 2016 10:37 ami think that maybe allen park is my elysian fields. but i'm gonna have to check some things. like, you know, the origin and spelling of it and all the meanings that it might reside within its name...
LPK
LiveJournal
9.2.2016
LPK
LiveJournal
9.2.2016
prelude i - question
Sep. 2nd, 2016 07:45 amwhen the winter comes,
as it will,
and the snows fall,
as they will,
will i have
found my place
in the silence
and the shadows
beneath the trees
of allen park...
LPK
LiveJournal
9.2.2016
as it will,
and the snows fall,
as they will,
will i have
found my place
in the silence
and the shadows
beneath the trees
of allen park...
LPK
LiveJournal
9.2.2016
There's Probably an Ordinance
Aug. 22nd, 2016 09:39 amI had an uncle, my father's youngest brother, who was a botonist and nature photographer whose pictures had appeared in Arizona Highways.
He loved to hike the Grand Canyon and, when he died, his will stipulated that he be cremated and his ashes scattered along a favorite trail.
My own final wishes are less grand, but in somewhat the same spirit. I'd like to be cremated and have my ashes scattered in the moving shadows of Allen Park.
Just don't tell anyone. There's probably a city ordinance...
LPK
LiveJournal
8.22.2016
He loved to hike the Grand Canyon and, when he died, his will stipulated that he be cremated and his ashes scattered along a favorite trail.
My own final wishes are less grand, but in somewhat the same spirit. I'd like to be cremated and have my ashes scattered in the moving shadows of Allen Park.
Just don't tell anyone. There's probably a city ordinance...
LPK
LiveJournal
8.22.2016
(6) A Note to Robert C.
Aug. 18th, 2016 09:23 amDear Bob,
In spite of meeting you on mostly pleasant summer mornings, I never wanted to be the "fair weather friend." Especially after I knew. And so this morning I drove here in the rain and once, in the dead of winter, stood in the dim light, below the stark and wind-stirred maples, and listened.
Now the rain is coming down hard, as it has at times this summer. On tennis courts and playgrounds and on the pavilion where I mainly sit these days. Because, for whatever reason, they've removed the benches which were once set out among the trees.
Anyway, it's cold and miserable in the park this morning. I'm huddled in my car, scribbling an occasional note, when I look outside and realize that this is not the place where I'm going to find you.
That if you still exist, it's in the heart of the large family and wide circle of friends who knew and loved you. Not just in the memory of those who might've known you, as I did, from Allen Park.
And so I sit and watch the rain. And count myself lucky to have once been on the periphery of that circle. Of those lives which were touched by yours...
LPK
LiveJournal
7.26 and 8.18.2016
In spite of meeting you on mostly pleasant summer mornings, I never wanted to be the "fair weather friend." Especially after I knew. And so this morning I drove here in the rain and once, in the dead of winter, stood in the dim light, below the stark and wind-stirred maples, and listened.
Now the rain is coming down hard, as it has at times this summer. On tennis courts and playgrounds and on the pavilion where I mainly sit these days. Because, for whatever reason, they've removed the benches which were once set out among the trees.
Anyway, it's cold and miserable in the park this morning. I'm huddled in my car, scribbling an occasional note, when I look outside and realize that this is not the place where I'm going to find you.
That if you still exist, it's in the heart of the large family and wide circle of friends who knew and loved you. Not just in the memory of those who might've known you, as I did, from Allen Park.
And so I sit and watch the rain. And count myself lucky to have once been on the periphery of that circle. Of those lives which were touched by yours...
LPK
LiveJournal
7.26 and 8.18.2016
[7] Post Script
Jul. 29th, 2016 01:18 pmOur eyes met briefly through the chain link fence as I passed the tennis courts and made my way up the hill towards the pavilion. Neither of us spoke, but there was a moment of hesitation before each of us continued on.
Seated at a table where I had a view of the park and surrounding neighborhood, my eyes were drawn again to the two figures in white moving about on the cracked and faded courts below.
One of the men was about my age while the other was some years older. And it was the second man, the older of the two, whose quizzical glance had caught my eye as I passed the courts.
Could it actually be, that the one I'd been calling "the other Bob," was now standing a mere hundred yards below me in the very place where I'd met them all, those many years ago? And did I have it in me to just walk up and say, "Excuse me, aren't you...?"
I'd spent some time on the internet and learned that, sadly, the one who had introduced us was gone. Had been for several years. Since then, I'd regretted not having walked to that door, two houses down from the park, and asked about him. Regretted also that I'd never queried the young woman whom I'd seen, on several occasions, walking the yellow dog.
Still seated at the pavilion, I wrote in the notebook that I'd been carrying again: "I need to get down there before they leave. This could be the chance that I missed with with Bob C."
So I gathered up my belongings and walked down the hill and said, through the chain link fence that enclosed the courts, "Excuse me, aren't you Bob H? Bob C. introduced us here, some years ago"
And, in fact, it was...
LPK
LiveJournal
7.29.2016
Seated at a table where I had a view of the park and surrounding neighborhood, my eyes were drawn again to the two figures in white moving about on the cracked and faded courts below.
One of the men was about my age while the other was some years older. And it was the second man, the older of the two, whose quizzical glance had caught my eye as I passed the courts.
Could it actually be, that the one I'd been calling "the other Bob," was now standing a mere hundred yards below me in the very place where I'd met them all, those many years ago? And did I have it in me to just walk up and say, "Excuse me, aren't you...?"
I'd spent some time on the internet and learned that, sadly, the one who had introduced us was gone. Had been for several years. Since then, I'd regretted not having walked to that door, two houses down from the park, and asked about him. Regretted also that I'd never queried the young woman whom I'd seen, on several occasions, walking the yellow dog.
Still seated at the pavilion, I wrote in the notebook that I'd been carrying again: "I need to get down there before they leave. This could be the chance that I missed with with Bob C."
So I gathered up my belongings and walked down the hill and said, through the chain link fence that enclosed the courts, "Excuse me, aren't you Bob H? Bob C. introduced us here, some years ago"
And, in fact, it was...
LPK
LiveJournal
7.29.2016
(4) What They Said
Jul. 24th, 2016 04:04 pm"Robert, will you join us today?" Mary asked, emerging from her car in a stylish, white tennis dress.
"Wish I could," said Robert C., holding the yellow dog's leash and leaning against his bike. "But lately the knees have not been good," he said.
"Ah, sorry to hear that," said Mary. "You know we'd love to have you," she said.
"I know," said Robert C. "Thanks. And how are you these days?" he said.
"Oh," said Mary, "I'm mostly OK. I just need a new body is all," she said.
"Yeah, I know what you mean. Enjoy your match," he said...
LPK
LiveJournal
7.24.2016
"Wish I could," said Robert C., holding the yellow dog's leash and leaning against his bike. "But lately the knees have not been good," he said.
"Ah, sorry to hear that," said Mary. "You know we'd love to have you," she said.
"I know," said Robert C. "Thanks. And how are you these days?" he said.
"Oh," said Mary, "I'm mostly OK. I just need a new body is all," she said.
"Yeah, I know what you mean. Enjoy your match," he said...
LPK
LiveJournal
7.24.2016
Dedication
Jul. 24th, 2016 03:00 pmFor Dave and Mary and
Robert H. and Robert C.
With special thanks
to Robert C.
for introducing me
to his
friends in Allen Park...
LPK.
LiveJournal
7.24.2016
LiveJournal
7.24.2016
Title Page
Jul. 22nd, 2016 08:22 amFRIENDS IN ALLEN PARK
The Preludes
The Light in the Park
I Look for Them
What I Want to Remember
What They Said
The Living and the Dead
A Note to Robert C.
Post Script
LPK
LiveJournal
7.22.2016
(3) What I Want to Remember
Jul. 5th, 2016 02:57 pmI want to remember them. I want to remember their names and faces. I want to remember how they walked and gestured and how they dressed.
But more than that, I want to remember how they greeted and spoke with and seemed to care about each other.
That they seemed to remember how it was when they were young and all of it was new. But also remembered, whatever they'd become, whatever they'd been through, that there were still the others.
Waiting to see them, to acknowlege their lives, on a day like this.
In the bright sunlight and moving shadows of Allen Park...
LPK
LiveJournal
7.5.2016
But more than that, I want to remember how they greeted and spoke with and seemed to care about each other.
That they seemed to remember how it was when they were young and all of it was new. But also remembered, whatever they'd become, whatever they'd been through, that there were still the others.
Waiting to see them, to acknowlege their lives, on a day like this.
In the bright sunlight and moving shadows of Allen Park...
LPK
LiveJournal
7.5.2016
(2) I Look for Them
Jul. 5th, 2016 04:46 amI look for them, and I see no one, nothing. No rusted, ancient bicycle moving along the grassy ridge. No large, yellow dog, head down, unleashed, unsteadily followed.
No swirl of white tennis dresses on the court. No cars driven up along the curb and parked. No casual walk, from the house across the street or from the one two houses down the block.
I look for them and wonder, whether any of them are left. It's been, what, five years or more since I saw the one I took to be his daughter, with the dog. And more than ten, since I last saw all of them together. The old friends. The ones who knew each other when.
I look for them, and listen for their voices.
I think, now, that I must sit more quietly here. Sit quietly and see if, in this silence, there may come some random movement.
Out there, among the trees. Unseen by anyone on the street, at the corner of my eye...
LPK
LiveJournal
7.5.2016
No swirl of white tennis dresses on the court. No cars driven up along the curb and parked. No casual walk, from the house across the street or from the one two houses down the block.
I look for them and wonder, whether any of them are left. It's been, what, five years or more since I saw the one I took to be his daughter, with the dog. And more than ten, since I last saw all of them together. The old friends. The ones who knew each other when.
I look for them, and listen for their voices.
I think, now, that I must sit more quietly here. Sit quietly and see if, in this silence, there may come some random movement.
Out there, among the trees. Unseen by anyone on the street, at the corner of my eye...
LPK
LiveJournal
7.5.2016
(5) The Living and the Dead
Jul. 4th, 2016 10:18 pmAnd if I mingle them, unknowingly, the living with the dead, I hope to be forgiven.
And if I have misplaced their names, inside this aging vessel, I likewise hope to be forgiven.
For with these words I hope I've made a place, beyond this moment, where they will be remembered...
LPK
LiveJournal
7.4.2016
And if I have misplaced their names, inside this aging vessel, I likewise hope to be forgiven.
For with these words I hope I've made a place, beyond this moment, where they will be remembered...
LPK
LiveJournal
7.4.2016
(1) The Light in the Park
Jul. 4th, 2016 12:01 pmWhen I got to Allen Park, this morning, the sunlight was streaming down. Through the landlocked canopy of maples and conifers scattered there. Across that oddly-sequestered hillscape within the town.
Most times when I've been there, of late, it's been empty. Except for the trees and their shadows which, in their highest parts, move with the wind.
There are, of course, the ghosts and it's with them that I hope eventually to speak. Just as I once spoke with their material selves. The ones no longer visible there.
And so I've decided that I'll go there again and sit, as I once did, beneath the trees. Beneath their broad canopy and the intermittent light, which moves. As I shall move, beneath them there, as well.
As carefully and quietly as the shadows. Seeking that place where I may hear their voices...
LPK
LiveJournal
7.4.16
Most times when I've been there, of late, it's been empty. Except for the trees and their shadows which, in their highest parts, move with the wind.
There are, of course, the ghosts and it's with them that I hope eventually to speak. Just as I once spoke with their material selves. The ones no longer visible there.
And so I've decided that I'll go there again and sit, as I once did, beneath the trees. Beneath their broad canopy and the intermittent light, which moves. As I shall move, beneath them there, as well.
As carefully and quietly as the shadows. Seeking that place where I may hear their voices...
LPK
LiveJournal
7.4.16
