Sadness

Sadness

There’s simply no predicting its arrival,
Or the way it shows up, like a nosy neighbor
Who returns borrowed sugar just to hear
The latest gossip of local tragedies.

It’s impossible to forget, it’s everywhere.
Those times when among friends, lazy
Afternoon barbeques, friendly poker games,
And simple rounds of golf, it strikes.
A sudden thunder storm clouds your soul,
Reminds that the merry-go-round sometimes
Stops in the middle of the ride.
You are alone.

No, sadness is the lost brother you always
Denied, who arrives in a taxicab at night,
Broke, drug addicted, bottomed out-
Pleading for his keeper’s deliverance.
The shadow world that visits during
The brightest hours of your happy denial,
Hours of capriciousness.

It comes to the child at play.
It comes to the doorman holding the door
With a bright smile, to the priest
Who’s blessing the flock at Holy Communion.
It comes to the mother, to the geese flying
Far north, to the soldier, to the circus clown,
And to the candy striper delivering flowers
To the wards.

It even comes to the river
In the silent shade of pebbled banks,
To boats churning on the rough sea,
To the grandmother, happily holding the child.