A Poem For Paul Pfleuger, Jr.
For Paul 

Sometimes it's like a wrecking ball
breaking the cohesions we rely on.
Lions and tigers and bears, oh dear,
in the  neighboring climes. Weight
shifting back and forth. Pauses un
expected. Loud clashes. Soft sensations
of sound the mimesis. This minute.
Here you stand steady as a sailor
in an angry sea of plastic trapping
mammals. Not a hero. Not here
to smash the tablets asunder.
But here to play the recorder.
Here to express the rebuilding
of the infrastructure and record
the tremors of the past collapse.
Carry your canoe to the river
of rocks and set it down.
The sound is memorable.