A Poem for June 8, 2018

Pray for Anthony Bourdain

Who departed the earth today.

Writer, traveler, hell-raiser

In his day… only yesterday?

Poor man, he must have felt great pain.

But let’s stop it there.

I’m not that kind of pilgrim.

This isn’t that kind of prayer.

We’ll hit the kitchen hard

Whip up a meal for him.

You make the steak.  I’ll bake the bread.

Open a bottle of wine and take

Communion of body and mind.

Our thoughts will wander,

So will our talk.

The sky will cloud over,

The door will blow open,

(Were we expecting a guest?)

No, just the wind and a loose hinge.

As I get up to close the door,

I will remember what I forgot:

The long call that precedes the cry—

Thank you.  Again.  Thank you.  Good-bye.