Two Poems

by Weldon Sandusky

THE SHADOW OF DEATH
 
The curious shadow of death
Like something that comes
And goes in the corner of the eye- a ceiling fan turning like a clock.
Wiling away the time with friendly
Grief  and painful loss. Touching spaces
Where no one is anymore and the
Tombstone tall like a child-forever. I don't care, I'm immortal.
I look round the room,
Make out a grocery list,
Imagine memories. But the phone never rings
The door never knocks and
The windows are always closed. When I was young I hurriedly tell myself And the thought goes away
Like the sun that rises, the darkness then
All around with peace a  gift and
Tomorrow another shadow.

FULL SERVE TRAINING 

Long dissolved college résumés
Coalesce into full serve training-
Exxon/Mobil.  Uniform, air gage,
Pleasant smile: “Your windshield
Wipers look a bit beat up.” “Can
I check under that hood.” “Gasoline,
sir?” A niteman/full serve man doubling act.
A no alcohol, no swearing, no drugs,
Responsibility. Sticking the tanks at 6:00 in the morning,
My associate, James, wipes clean the stick,
Now plunging the Super.  “65 inches,” he
Calls.  65 inches, I write.
I stock the oil rack with  bright, shinny
Red quarts. His old pickup parked out
Back alongside my Chevy.  The mechanic
Doing a tune-up .  The manager counting
Money. We  sit under a shade tree waiting,
Mopping oil spills and buying snacks.
On a hot day we spray
Each other with the hose
And laugh like boys
Just not smart enough
To keep up with the others.
“Gasoline, sir?”

 
WELDON SANDUSKY graduated from Texas Tech University in 1968-a B.A. in English. He then got an M.A. in English from the University of Wisconsin and a law degree (J.D. l975) from the same school. He later worked at Exxon/Mobil for twenty years as a cashier-nightman. Since becoming disabled, he has been writing. In addition to poetry, he's written a novella, "The Mexican in the Bathroom."