Dad’s surgery went very well – the best case scenario seems to have played out, and my family and I are extremely grateful.  He still has a great deal of recovery ahead of him.  But he came through the hardest part, is in good spirits, and will likely get to go home from the hospital Friday.  Thanks for keeping him and our family in your thoughts and prayers.  I’ve shared many of your messages and comments with my folks – and they appreciate your friendship and support as much as I do.

Let me add this as well, so tonight’s blog won’t be so short:

I’ve posted samples of my old poetry in perhaps a dozen previous blogs, most recently in Gays of Our Lives: Poetic Portraits from the 1504 Club.  But only once have I posted a poem written more recently than 2000 here, and many of you have wondered why.

Early this morning, as I was preparing to leave the hotel in Charleston to visit Dad one more time before heading home to Ohio, this little piece popped into my head and insisted I write it down.  Ginsberg’s Howl it isn’t.  And it seems to have nothing to do with dad.  But, flaws and all, since it asks to be shared and I’m too tired to tweak it, here is “Akimbo”:

Market fresh Middle Eastern misfire
Showing so many bloody limbs akimbo
And you turn the channel, saying “Too much info.”

I don’t hear you through the din, though
Simply close my eyes
‘Cause I can only take so much

And you wonder why.