While life’s music played
We were two to others pledged
We two never danced

Sweet forbidden fruit
That we could not touch, we tasted
With our eager eyes

Eyes that spoke of love
In words never uttered by
Lips that could not kiss

Gordon Gilbert
May 26, 2015

Cats that kept me as their owner
Long ago when I was younger
Taught me much, though I’ll admit
I was a very slow learner
 
I like to think I played a part myself
Cementing interspecial ties
Or bonding, if you will
I’d rather not admit the fact
Admit that what it really was
Was I served them
And all they learned from our relationship
Was how to best put up with all my failings 

But my memories are fond
And they treated me well
I miss them 


Gordon Gilbert 4/15/2014

Perhaps I started slowly,
but that I don’t remember now…
I remember flying,
flying down. 
 
Church camp in the mountains
every summer. 
We were too young
to even consider
a future where we would all move on
to other summers,
leaving camp behind. 
Kids would arrive,
stay a week or two,
then go home again
til next summer. 
But we, my family ---
well, dad was the director,
and so we stayed
til camp ended. 
And that was how
I learned to fly,
fly down.  

The campgrounds were
on fairly level ground, a field. 
At the forest’s edge,
a steep and rocky path
descended down
in twists and turns
among the trees
a quarter mile
to the lake below
where all the campers
would swim each afternoon. 
On hottest days sometimes
a morning dip as well.  

But there were times
up at the campgrounds
that I would steal away
descending down
to fish the lake shore
with my coiled-up line and hook
and dough balls made from bread
pocketed at lunchtime,
catching on occasion
a few small chubs.

The descent became in time
a game unto itself
to see how fast
I could race down,
not a thought to
dire consequences,
should I stumble, trip or fall. 

Arms akimbo,
eyes on the path,
where to plant one foot just lifted,
while the other landed,
banking off a root or rock
to make each turn
on down the twisting path,
I only had to guide my feet,
gravity did the rest,
free-falling cueball
caroming off the cushions,
down I flew,
settled into a two-step cadence
pushing off enough for feet to glide
just above the path between footfalls.
With all the exuberance
of immortal youth,
Sure-footed,
and sure I would not fall,
arms out, I flew,
flying down.


Gordon Gilbert
03/27/2014