For Ted
You might think
it’s Greek islands,
Renaissance paintings,
olive trees, stone walls, and gnarled roots.
But look at the dark-eyed granddaughter,
the motley caucus of friends -
We are the reliquary,
container of the precious,
the memories of this man
who danced with Dionysus,
laughed with leaves,
probed with somber palette of meaning.
We said he wore his heart
on his sleeve, his car, and house,
whose passionate eye for
fast horse flank,
cloud flutter on the bay,
flesh of his queenly woman,
gave us art.
Know depths, know heights;
choose beauty.
Growl at the nightly news;
no, shout, no, march, no, vote!
Shape this world
to hold his lovely, loving details.
Be quick - life happens so fast.
- March 6, 2004
Marnie Reed Crowell