from more than half a life ago
some artifacts remain and so
they raise me up and lay me low

an uncle and his nieces sit
the inkwash sloppiness may fit
if smiles persist and moods acquit

some ink dissolved in lithotine
on fingerpainting paper clean
may slosh then be erased–it’s keen

on plates of zinc with beveled edge
may be a mirror image–hedge
your bets and stack ’em on a ledge

this fella thought he was so smart
and dabbed and dribbled at his art
a lifetime later? time to start

*****

My brother Brian and I were going through boxes in the carport this morning and found many blasts from the past, from more than a century ago to and through the 1975-1982 period when these images of mine were made. Pride, embarrassment, a pang of grief for my now-deceased niece Lori Marie, and frustrated regret for the art career I never really had swept through me in five seconds or less. “What’s past is prologue,” said Shakespeare’s Antonio in THE TEMPEST. “It’s never too late to do something great,” I wrote in our Glendale High School 20th Reunion souvenir book more than 20 years ago. I hope I was right!