Whtis right, what is wrong? Dear Jennifer..
The orchards are blooming, my grandfather’s roses are almost ready. I sit near the river, drinking the black velvet whiskey alone and putting names into my Native American tepee. The names of people needing help, the names of people needing healing and I write dear Jennifer name on small sheets of paper. I add tobacco and white sage.
I touch the cold May river water and I asked the rising sun. What is right, what is wrong? I am a old man now and I am seeking things in the lost and found. I light the sage and the tobacco. I watch the smoke rise to the morning sky.
Many moons ago. Beautiful Jennifer taught me. The John Donne words were true. “You don’t find love, love find you.” She taught me that I wanted love and she wanted adventure. We were going into two different directions.
I promised her a millions words of appreciation and she laughed at my words. She told me. Johnnie, love is for the lucky. We are not the lucky. Maybe words are all we can own?
Today I write into my journal.
“Dear Jennifer..
I remember you, I remember us.
You were long legs, fancy dresses and the warmest/sweetest kisses I ever knew.
You were my Winter love, my Spring time sadness.
You wanted to feel everything, you wanted to taste sweetness and you wanted to know pain.
I loved your ivory Winter skin and the softness of your flesh.
You wanted to be drunk with passion and I wanted to follow you to hell and back.
I remember you, I remember us.
I didn’t know that love can break your heart, love could break your back.
Dear Jennifer, you are still gentle on my mind, a kind memory.”
I gathered my teepee and the tobacco/sage. I sit with my feet in the moving river. The coldness make my tire mind come alive. I tell the river. Dear Jennifer. I know now. Love was enough.
Coyote
In 1991, I gave-up. I gave everything of value away and everything else to the trash. Two brother committed suicide, one in 1988 and one in 1989. I rejoined the Army to escape the sadness. I left Ann Arbor and I promised myself a good death.
The damn war taught me, I had more things to do. I wasn’t done yet. I learn the soldier prayer. Please just one more day, please just one more drink and please just more kisses from a pretty gals.
The war was easy for me. I did my job with skill and I got promoted quickly. I came back home to Ann Arbor. I found old friends and one of my friends told me. Jennifer been asking about you and I have her phone number. I called her and her voice. So sweet, so kind. I told her. I need to see you dear Jennifer. Can I come to you?
She held silence and she told me. Johnnie, Johnnie. I have a baby now and I am so cold. You were the only one, who loved me and I didn’t know what love was. I would love to see you, I have been praying the damn war didn’t kill the poet. Please come to me. I wrote down her address on a sheet of paper and I told her. I shall see you soon dear Jennifer.
I went to my car and I wrote a poem.
“Dearest Jennifer…
Once love made you run from me,
once love made escape my life.
Once I believe in love, forever.
Now I know. We just loan and borrow.
We feed the hunger of the skin, we feed the demands of the body.
Love is for the lucky and you and I. Are not the lucky ones.
Dear Jennifer, I remember the hunger in your eyes,
the demands in your voice and you telling me.
Love isn’t enough, the damn gin, the damn sin is what I want.”
I drove the forty mile knowing you were never mind. Just a pretty lady honoring me with just kisses and the gift of bliss/skin once. I knew the ending at the beginning. You would break my heart again.
Coyote