ODE TO BEATRIZ OF ARGENTINA
The world will not be the same
without you, Beatriz. I like to
pronounce your name Be-uh-TREE-CHEE
like Dante Alighieri might have said.
Travel with me now to the World's New
Church, down Bryn Athyn way.
Trees as tall as chapels in Buenos Aires
where oil and cocoa and coffee are brought
to the larger world.
But you will not see those trees, our
Beatrizee!
We will know you are there. In the mug
with a cardinal on its face, we will
drink deep and long.
Once, O Retired Biologist, we met
in the cafe of the Giant Supermarket.
How joyful we were thinking our joy
would outlast the setting sun.
We did lose our Kym Cohen from
Hodgkin and non Hodgkin Lymphoma
never believing the worst would happen.
It did. It does.
But you - thou - you mustn't leave us.
Like a Catholic, I go down on bended knee
and beseech you, Make sure your work is done.
Make sure you wish to rest beside your first love
and both parents.
Make sure the pollinators - the bees, the wasps, the
tiny ants - will wrap you in a golden gown and you
will sit at the left hand of God and see your
thousands of followers on the surface of the earth
Ceres, coming to rest on the parched and thirsty earth,
O retired biologist and believer in Climate Change Now!
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