AUGUST

by Juditha Dowd

This evening it occurs to me I ought to call my mom and dad
because it’s been a while. And for a moment they are not
gone some fifteen and thirty-six years, but still at the house 
where I left them, the first of their children to depart.
It’s summer and steamy and all the windows are open wide.
She’s on the porch working the Sunday crossword.
He’s out back picking tomatoes or wielding some tool—
lawnmower, drill, or paint brush. For what they may lack 
in talents or skill they substitute perseverance.  
Today I took tomatoes from the garden we extended again
in this post-pandemic summer, the leaves already mottled 
with a virus that will kill the plant but doesn’t harm us. 
Here too it’s hot and humid, like that year my twin brothers 
caught polio, from swimming at a public pool some said.
The same August our younger brother almost drowned 
in the deep end and our country joined the Korean war,
though my father was too old to fight in that one. 
If only my phone could find them tonight, I’d assure them 
I’ll get another booster. Or bemoan the endless shootings,
the forest fires, the latest wars… Or instead I might say 
It’s 100° and I’m making a tomato sandwich. 
Maybe leave it at that. They’d know what I mean.
 
 
Juditha Dowd’s fifth book of poetry, Audubon’s Sparrow, is a lyric biography in the voice of Lucy Bakewell Audubon (Rose Metal Press). She was a 2022 finalist for the Adrienne Rich Award and has contributed poems to Beloit Poetry Journal, Cider Press Review, Florida Review, Poet Lore, Poetry Daily, and elsewhere.

ELEGY

by Gil Hoy

Source: Dignity Memorial

An old dear friend of mine passed on April 16.
I, like many others, will sorely miss him.

“We have it totally under control. It’s one person
coming in from China. It’s going to be just fine.”

My friend, Berton, was a 90 year-old gentleman
who lived in a nursing home in Beverly, Massachusetts.
Last month, he succumbed to complications from the coronavirus.

Bert enjoyed reading poetry to the workers at his nursing home.
They looked forward to it. He also played music for them
and was generous in expressing his gratitude for the comfort
and care they provided him.

"We think we have it very well under control. We have
very little problem in this country—five—and those people
are all recuperating successfully."

As a boy, Bert spent much of his time helping family fishermen
haul in their catch from the local pier. He always loved the sea.

"Now, the virus, a lot of people think that goes away in April
with the heat. Typically, that will go away in April.
We’re in great shape. We have 12 cases—11 cases,
and many of them are in good shape now.”

Bert was a soldier in the Korean War. He later served
his community as a social worker, professor, counselor
and political activist.

“So we’re at the low level. And we could be at just one
or two people over the next short period of time.”

Bert loved everyone. Everyone he encountered
knew that he did.

“And again, when you have 15 people, and the 15
within a couple of days is going to be down to close to zero,
that’s a pretty good job we’ve done.”

My old friend raged against poverty and injustice. He worked
throughout his life to create more affordable housing.

“It’s going to disappear. One day—it’s like a miracle—
it will disappear.”

Bert attended the 1963 March on Washington. He later taught
at Tufts School of Medicine and the University of Massachusetts.
His students admired him greatly.

“No, I’m not concerned at all. No, we’ve done a great job with it.”

My dear friend was a lover of poetry throughout his life. His two
favorite verses were: "My heart leaps up when I behold a rainbow
in the sky," and "My love is like a red, red rose."

Gil Hoy is a Boston poet and semi-retired trial lawyer who studied poetry at Boston University through its Evergreen program. Hoy served as a Brookline, Massachusetts Selectman for four terms. His poetry has appeared, or will be appearing, most recently in Tipton Poetry Journal, Chiron Review, TheNewVerse.News, Right Hand Pointing, MisfitMagazine, Mobius: Journal of Social Change, Ariel Chart and elsewhere.