Rick Braun Janzen (1961-2024) elegy

I didn’t know you anymore 

just those three short years from 15 to 17 

but we shared an age and came of age together 

and I knew that smile and I knew that laugh 

and we sang tenor together in that high school choir 

that became a miracle of permanent memory 

in our 60s 

we walked through the snow 

bundled up from the cold 

until one set of prints finds the cold 

too hard to bear 

and lightens until no trace is left 

upon the clean white covering

first steps

on two tiny feet 

she leaves her mother’s arms and 

walks 

two steps towards cousin 

waiting with arms stretched toward 

so happy she giggles a belly laugh 

before crumpling into cousin’s lap 

and everyone laughs and claps 

because these first steps travel 

so far around the world 

in fact leaving footsteps 

we can only half imagine 

but we know the hug 

will always be there

in arms that catch and hold

card

downy woodpecker print

in black and white 

small splotches of white 

snow falling in the night 

black sky 

bird 

white breasted 

perched on tree 

midwinter cold 

it’s magic on cardstock 

cuz I can hear the knock knock

of beak on bark 

on a silent Christmas card 

and I think of how to 

save this world