Saying thanks to Andre (the Giant) Agassi and farewell to Steve Irwin;
The Hunter’s Been Hunted

Game, Set, Match
Saying thanks to Andre (the Giant) Agassi.

Advantage us.
Love you.
You were no match for most.
On courts of clay (and even grass),
you earned the right to boast.

You showed your colleagues
and the world
your skill and dignity.
Your racquet wasn’t just a game.
You gave us cause to see …

how tennis is so much
like life.
How every day’s like court.
How trials judge ones discipline.
How serving’s more than sport.

With aching back
and aging legs,
you found the means to stand.
Your grit and grace (each year on end)
was hard to understand.

Your faults were few,
but not your fans
(who marvel at your aim).
They know without you at the net,
this game won’t seem the same.

And so it’s fully
within bounds
to leave our shoes unlaced.
It is our way of saying thanks.
No one can take your place.

The Hunter’s Been Hunted
Bidding Goodbye to Steve Irwin

Down under the thunder
can barely be heard.
“G’day mate!” is whispered.
It’s really absurd.

Australians are mourning.
They’re bludgeoned by grief.
A mate loved by millions
was lost near the Reef.

The crocks, too, and gators
are wondering why
this one they respected
has caused them to cry.

We all, if we’re honest,
have reason to grieve.
The hunter’s been hunted.
May God save you, Steve.

Saying thanks to graveyard shift survivors;
The Big Easy’s Hard Year

You punch the clock while others sleep.
That graveyard shift is long and deep.
At times it’s like you’re six feet down,
bone tired, feeling dead.

It’s hard to go to bed at dawn
or after you have mown the lawn.
It really is unnatural
to sleep the day away.

You wake for dinner and you say
“I wish my job was in the day
for then I could have nights at home
and watch my favorite shows.”

Still you’re the envy of those damned
by traffic that is always jammed.
Those daytime workers only dream
of such a quick commute.

And truth be told the work you do
is valuable. Your boss needs you.
The overnights that you put in
mean far more than you know. And … Another Anniversary…The Big Easy’s Hard YearReflections on Katrina’s Wrath. Her name was gentle, but that’s all.
The day Katrina chose to call,
all Hell broke loose in New Orleans
and Easy became hard.

A YEAR ago she blew through town.
The evidence is still around.
This heartless woman’s calling card
has numbers that won’t quit.

The cost’s in lives and dollars spent
and those who owned but now must rent
plus countless heartache felt by those
whose dreams can’t be rebuilt.

New Orleans now is half the size.
What has increased are all the whys
that question how so many still
are homeless and displaced.

O God, please comfort those alone
who have no place to call their home.
And help us all to realize
there’s something we can do.

The plight of a has-been planet

It’s kind of Goofy, but it’s true.
In spite of what we thought we knew,
ol’ Pluto isn’t worth his bark
way out there deep in space.

This is no Mickey Mouse-ish ruling.
All those textbooks from our schooling
have been rendered out-of-date.
The dog has been dethroned.

The tally proves he’s no Survivor.
Pluto’s torch has lost its fire.
The tribe has spoken and the pup’s
been voted off for good.

So as you stargaze late at night,
remember “facts” aren’t always right.
When science dines on just desserts,
sometimes it’s humble pie.

The baby boomers reach metal age

Sixty years ago this year
a boom in babies made it clear
that while the war had come and gone
there was no peace at night.

A longing for her ample breast
kept mothers from nocturnal rest
as babies born in ’46
cried out like drunks for drink.

And now those milk-fed babes are old
with silver hair and teeth of gold.
Because there’s lead within their pants,
we call them metal age.

Both Bush and Clinton lead the way
as thousands join the club each day
to face those sixty sticks of wax
that grace a birthday cake.

This is The Donald’s Six-Oh year
and Dolly Parton, even Cher.
I guess that helps us realize
that sixty still is young.

And yet the speed at which life flies
reminds us that the year we’ll die
is closer than it’s been before.
So we had best prepare.