Backyard Ritual

It was a backyard ritual.

One he had experienced before.

One he paid closer attnetion to than the rest.

Several small birds

dotted the clothesline.

He shooed them away

with a determiend wave

and humbily sat

on his mother’s grave.

It was a backyard ritul.

One he had taken for granted,

for once too long.

He had paid pennace

with rice flour and corn

on lazyer Sunday afternoons

when he played withotu help.

Now he sat “Indian Style”

on the patchy lawn

and listened very closley

for the heartbeat underground

for he knew it was there, somewhere.

So he listened carefully

during a backyard ritual.

Dorian LaGuardia
May 1988