Everything We Need -for David Massengill (and all of us) Twenty-five windless degrees allow each miraculous flake a perpendicular freefall to a starring role in a white Christmas Eve, which lets Lawrence leave his third job four hours early and thirty-six before he has to work again. Uneven crunch of workboot sole on snow recalls his childhood joy at snowflakes only visible in amber glow then fading past the streetlamps jurisdiction. He stops, watches them fall within the stilled boots perfect silence, then turns toward the bus stop. Aboard, back seat seduction long gone, he sits behind the driver, imagines a car and just one job, checks his pocket for the cash, rests his hand where he feels it. Eight familiar stops bring Lynn aboard, the kids in tow, Larry bouncing, Lisa glowing with the season: Daddy, Daddy, Santa Claus is coming! He smiles, hugs and kisses, feels the tug of love, the slap of scarcity— a full heart and thin wallet competing for his consciousness. K-Mart looms bright red as they step down, wish the driver Merry Christmas, follow the stores beacon, its promise of domestic perfection. Inside, Larry and Lisa dash toyward, Lynns reminder lost in the shopping sprawl: One each—remember, only one each. Lawrence marvels at her smile, tries to return it through his sense of deficit. Its okay, she tells him. Its okay with them; its okay with me. We have everything we need. Larry grabs a basketball, thirty-five dollars; Lawrence finds one for fifteen that Larry likes as much; Lisa hugs a twelve-dollar doll, its skin much darker than her own. They check both toys for cracks and blemishes, find none, pay $28.96; nearsighted cashier glimpses doll-hug and ball-bounce celebrations. Smiles. Im sure we have some white dolls left. Yes, Lynn replies, you do, but Lisa wants this one. The cashier shakes her head, says, Kids. Will there be anything else? Lawrence wishes he could say yes, feels Lynns hand, comfortable on his arm; gazes at Lisa and Larry, whose eyes envelop him in their pure joy; mysterious tears roll forth and he understands now that it is okay. No, he says, we have everything we need. Copyright © 1997, 2001, 2013, 2014 by Reggie Marra This poem came about when I heard the final stanza of David Massengills Number One in America -- a remarkable song about race, politics, law enforcement, Christmas Eve, and change. I highly recommend spending the just under 12 minutes it takes to listen to the intro and the song. Thanks, again, David. https://youtube/watch?v=8sWHsclb4hU&list=PLpkSx6hbj1vxX2rgpa0LNHDd-vkSbvgxw&index=50
Posted on: Wed, 24 Dec 2014 01:26:38 +0000
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