Robert Demaree

Chess Match

It is a battle of wits, a chess match
We are not going to win,
Our every move countered by a foe
Whose cunning and persistence we cannot outlast.
We have driven miles, spent vast sums
Plotting our next gambit.
But knights can rook bishops.
Baffles to not baffle, and
Extenders do not outstrip his reach.
Pawns, we watch the gray squirrel 
Feed happily on sunflower meaties,
Hanging upside down on the tube feeder:
Checkmate.

© 2007 Robert Demaree

At the Orthopedist's Office

At the orthopedist’s office
You see people you used to know,
Hobbled with pains that
Will neither go away nor kill,
An atmosphere of inconvenience 
But not of sorrow.
The father of his daughter’s friend went in first.
Later, the young doctor,
Whom Julie once dated,
Was called away, cortisone ready,
A telephone consultation.
He tried not to listen, he knew he shouldn’t.
He picked up only a couple of words:
One was radiation.

© 2007 Robert Demaree

Christmas Cards

First the bright-grinned kids,
Boys in red sweaters,
News of promotions.
Soon enough the grandchildren,
All lined up by the tree,
Tallest to shortest.
Then later a snapshot, no message,
A man our age with a new, younger wife.
And now today a note, no picture,
In the hand of a woman we do not know:
They got it all, the surgeon says;
Expecting him home for Christmas.

© 2007 Robert Demaree

Haiku:   Downsizing

Cleaning the attic:
Old appointment books not saved:
Life’s years in black bags.

Packing casualty:
Years in the medicine chest:
My dad’s shaving brush.

In the storage shed,
Not ready for a yard sale:
The girls’ autoharp.

Final packing box:
Fifty years of people’s stuff:
Wooden coat hangers.

The last box empty:
No chance of going back:
Pictures hung on walls.

Retirement home dusk:
A bicycle built for two,
Rear seat riderless


© 2007 Robert Demaree

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