4 July is my father’s death day — 13 years ago — and now also that of Lorenzo Thomas, a wonderful poet, & a sweet & lovely man with a sharp intelleto. Here is the link to an obit in the Houston Chronicle.

And here is his poem “Tirade” — on old age, something he didn’t get to appreciate, he died at 60, much too young — taken from Dancing on Main Street:

Now I know old age is cruel
It brings fears you never knew

There is a hazard in the morning sun,
A thirty percent chance
This day will pass without
The birth of a regret
Or the blossoming of a sorrow
So well behaved and mild
Shyly, patiently
Gaining courage all these years
Blurting into the bliss
You’ve sown around you

These passions make your life last longer
Waiting for the day
You can no longer push them away.
Arms weakened,
Your heart grows stronger
And wisdom clinging to you like a child
To her broken doll,
You may finally sort everything out
And end with nothing
Left to fear tomorrow

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