"TOMMY, TIME BANDIT'

You
in an orange jumpsuit
wearing a strange bracelets
doesn't suit you...
Every summer
since we were "knee-high to a grasshopper"
as Grandpa Tom used to say
you and I
amidst the playful barking
of the jolly dogs who followed us everywhere
(Sunshine the golden shepherd-collie,
Tippy the sleek black spaniel mix
and all the rest)
ventured into the sunshorn,
briar-tangled
heart
of "Blackberry Heaven"
(our niche of nostalgia)
to pick plump, shining blackberries
by the bucket for Grandma Mae's famous pie
Later, we splashed-raced-laughed
(and sometimes fought)
in the backyard swimming pool
during the "Water Olympics"
with the neighbor kids Heide, Freddy, Alan
--Summer was ever-gold then
Evergreen, friend
we thought it would never end
Time, the Great Trickster--
Now, instead of hearing peals
of your goofy laughter
or seeing the mischievous sparkle
in your verdigris eyes
I see grimaces of grey
etched on you unsmiling face
The tast of your life: Sour
the ripe opportunities
for a life of dignity and decency
bittersweet
yet in your grasp...
But all is squeezed breathlessly to a pulp
when I see --you--
~my favorite cousin
~the "brother" I never had
through smudge, double-paned glass
dressed in a prison uniform
the color of citrus
fruit
and all I can do
to keep my eyes from
glistening
with tears
is to take a deep breath
and think of
glistening
blackberries in summer

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