indian summer


october is warming up
like august — two months ago
where we stood in a summer
cemetery singing gospel songs
and saying goodbye


grief, I think, is hot — not cold
a burning, swarming absence
that gets under your skin
and won’t let you find
a cool place to relax

these feelings are as old as
the weather; the heaviness
is humbling when I see others
who have carried the weight
far longer than I . . .

and this is my story
I am the last one left with
the name we both carried
the family resemblance
even through changes

in this season little feels
reliable beyond loss and love
still we keep moving
through the deceptive heat
and the warm shadows



  1. wow. were you writing about you or me? aside from the “name” reference, I think I could have penned the same words…although not as eloquently. Had you on my mind yesterday as I began my sermon. The title is “Re-Membering,” and I will send it to you when completed. Love you Uncle Milty!

  2. Milton, I am so inspired by each of your blogs. Your Dad and Mom were special friends while at Westbury Baptist and I agree grief does stay for the rest of the journey

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