Doghouse

Masks

A poem.












Walking into Lennon’s house
I saw the wall of masks
Stone masks of yellow limestone
Pumice
Weathered granite
Rough and pitted
All set in a simple white pine
Framing

The ceilings were thirty feet high and
Water gurgled from alongside me
And down a stairwell
As I passed the wall of
Thirty stone masks
Noted Yoko’s elaborate candles
Like an alter on a stand
Well used.

My daughter was playing on the ground
She was drawing
And we took up acrylics
And painted a mural together
With paints slogging into each other
Bright blues
Gold and yellow with
Lime green
Dripping into themselves
In a playful and beautiful
Dance

But someone else
To our surprise dislodged the shelf
Sliding away on wheels
And the beauty of that room was left
With a shattered mask
Lennon’s mask
Broken in half

Daughter looked up at me
As if to say
“Can you make it go back?
Can we just go back and paint?”

“No I can’t sweetheart
It's broken.”

I have to apologize
To John for the one mask
Because while I did not do it
It was on my watch.
I’m sorry John
Love means loss
Or loss opens the door to love
Grace and mercy
But you knew that

The painting on his wall is
Incredibly beautiful
Daughter smiles and
Jumps up and down
The waters of Jordan
Flow down the steps
The masks
Now only 29
Grin louder
In their stony way

I light a candle
And wait.

posted by Obi-Mac BakDon @ 12:30 PM