Lines Commemorating the Birth of David William Hixon III on April 11, 2011

I felt I hardly knew the light of earth
when I sang Eternal Father, Strong to Save
at your grandfather's funeral. Life went on,
but I had felt true loss for the first time.

And then there were marriages, an aunt-to-be
wed a dear friend of mine. Your father became
something of a mystery, suddenly seeming so
much my senior, though forty-eight days younger.

He wed a praiseworthy woman, friend to one I'd loved,
and I stood next to him, despite certain doubts.
Then suddenly you were coming, and friends were
to be fathers and mothers, and I could hardly see

that all the life your newborn April brought
would find its way to me, and flood this heart.

Elegy for Oscar

Striking each raised ebony planck
with the elegance of a fine, tall
lady at a rate which only hummingbird
wings might beat, this rather regal
individual inspired the subconscious
whistle of my long jazz generation.

They'd go like that, and like that,
and we said he didn't understand
with his trapeze acts and tightrope
tricks and fingers all full of whip-
cracks and lightning and he knew
he wasn't meant to do what we said
he should (or could).