To Wayne

Dear Friend,
I have a favor to ask.
     My basement may flood, and since I’m out of town, I hoped you would check on it for me.
     The sump pump works, but it sometimes needs jiggling, and with the snow melt you’re having, it might overflow.
          Wanda is feeding the cat, so she can let you in.
     The main thing is to protect the drywall, so if water pours through the door, close it quick.
     First clear the drain hose, which could well be frozen. You may have to dig it out from under the woodpile.
          There’s a good flashlight, somewhere in the foyer.
     If the sump pump won’t work, check the fuse, check the outlet, check if the ground fault has been interrupted.
     There’s a bucket in the garage by the sump, and somewhere nearby is a shop-vac that works.
          If all else fails, bail.
     I know this is short notice, but I really appreciate it.
     Thank you so much.
Yours truly,
Jerry.

Spring is a promise of life just ahead out of sight,
The peeps in the canal sing out their certainty,
Of wonders not yet here but sure to be,
From my house I hear them strong and hope they’re right.

Dear Friend,
I have a favor to ask.
     Today I’m supposed to be meeting my wife, and her lawyer, to hash out the terms of divorce.
     No need to tell you the history gone by, but the problem is I can’t make it today.
          I hoped that you would go, and protect my interests.
     The main thing is that I want the house, it’s my solace, my hiding place, my labor of love.
     She knows how I feel so she’ll demand a high price, and I suppose I will pay it, but just do your best.
          Remember, not all of it was my fault.
     I’ll give her the car and give her the dog, and I’ll even promise that I won’t write her parents,
     As long as I never again have to hear that New Age-y stuff about “being present.”
          I’d tell her myself, if I were there.
     I know this is short notice, but I really appreciate it.
     Thank you so much.
Yours truly,
Jerry.

Summer has no memory, no future or past,
It is now, just now, it does not hurry, nor wait,
Through my blinds presses its surrounding heat,
Nervous, I look for night that daily comes at last.

Dear Friend,
I have a favor to ask.
     My son’s getting married, and yes we’re all thrilled, though both of them are twenty, and young for their age.
     I haven’t met the bride, but she sounds like a good egg; the trouble is I can’t get the time off to go.
          Would you go for me, and convey my best wishes?
     The main thing is that the happy couple should feel supported as they start on their new life.
     His mother may expect me to be there, so a little bit of awkwardness could arise on that score.
          Nothing you can’t handle; I’m sure you’ll be fine.
     I was thinking a poem would suit the occasion, if you had time to write them something.
     But they’re on Bed, Bath and Beyond’s bridal registry, and you could just pick out a gift for them there.
          That would be nice; use my credit card. 
     I know this is short notice, but I really appreciate it.
     Thank you so much.
Yours truly,
Jerry.

Autumn reflects on what is gone, what remains,
Bright colors go, but leave a crisper beauty,
Careless times give way to earnest duty,
I dig out hats and boots against the autumn rains.

Dear Friend,
I have a favor to ask.
     Due to an unfortunate event, I am supposed to meet Saint Peter shortly at the pearly gates.
     For reasons obscure, and being realistic about my track record, I’m afraid I won’t make the meeting.
          Can you be at the gates, to speak on my behalf?
     The main thing is to tell Saint Peter of the good intentions I have always had.
     If the question of my good works comes up, argue that good works are theologically immaterial.
          That would be easier, than finding some good works.
     My history with women is a bit dicey, and children, community, and career not much better.
     All things considered, it might just be best if you were to stick to intentions.
          The bottom line is, “To err is human…” 
     I know this is short notice, but I really appreciate it.
     Thank you so much.
Yours truly,
Jerry.

Winter passes judgment, lying hard on river and town,
Keep what’s needed, no more, is winter’s good,
It tests my house and collects its toll in firewood,
Weak light surrenders early, as dark comes down.

I find it hard – so, so hard – to stay warm,
I ask what magic shields others from the storm.