The Formal Garden in Waukesha's Frame Park
It is a diamond in a donor-intended green grass setting
where citizens can find expansive escape, and beautiful prospects
unknown, no matter how lovely their littler yards may be
Let them stretch wide their legs here, as meant
and do the seventh inning stretching in a true ballpark fashion
Sardine-like; elsewhere
[SRN Opinion 1-5-18]
^,^
The Sons of The American Legion
I wore this now moth-eaten hat, so did cousin Craigie,
after WW II was over
when my Dad and Craig's step-dad Uncle Lee who served
as the Commander of the DJ Martin Legion Post
in Waukesha were loyal ex-fighting-man members
of the that full-fledged band.
I was proud of my heritage.
You can still see these fortified country servants
gathered at streetside or marching if able
in local parades.
Uncle Lee struggles to stand to give the colors the smartest salute
at Arcadian and Hartwell Avenues
Dad in his doorway, Fairfax VA
^,^
Craigie
Cousin like a brother
Craigie 1942
His name was David C.
Craigmile
Son of my Aunt
Frances and a man called Chick
Chick Craigmile, I
didn’t know much about him
But I think like my
maternal grandfather
Herman Elies, a
miller by trade,
Chick and Herman were
rogues
So my boyhood friend
and brother in arms,
Craigie and I
Were related to
rogues, we had roguery
In our blood, and we
were often naughty together
Naturally;
One time Aunt Frances ,
local beauty, was spotted in town by
Uncle Lee, long after
Chick and Herman blew the home scene
And Uncle Lee tracked
Frances to the Methodist Church
Where she sang in the
choir, good Welsh chorister
That she was
And Uncle Lee became a
Methodist in his method to meet her
Starting off a
romance with Frances
and the church
That lasted Uncle Lee
– not a rogue, ever –
A lifetime
Faith and
faithfulness came to us spawn of rogues
But we were boys,
sons of rogues
And I don’t think it
took fully
Uncle Lee became
Craigie’s father
And tried to instill
Christian values
But it was too late;
By that time we were
picking pockets,
Stealing cookies and
fresh-baked pies
And later, planning
bank jobs
At the Avon movies we sided with the bad guys
And went to the
Salvation Army retail shop
For black hats
Craigie taught me to
spit between my teeth and cuss
And get almost as
much distance and vehemence as he got
And at night on
sleep-overs we took flashlights
Under the blankets
and read our favorite stories,
Including Seven Keys to Baldpate
Which we then
alternated telling by rote in the dark;
It was World War II
and at the Avon
We watched the RKO
newsreels
And saw how the Nazis
and the Japs were treating
Our American forces
in the French woods
And at Bataan ;
For a while I honored
Craigie with an heroic
Battlefield
name: Corregidor
Craigie was
interested in drums so
Uncle Lee got him a
set of used Slingerlands
And lessons
And through Craig I
learned about Gene Krupa
And took to revering
a paradiddling pothead;
We didn’t care if he
had a bad habit or two
Because he could wail
on the skins;
Craigie helped me practice tolerance;
Later Craigie served
a hitch in the Navy
The branch Uncle Lee
had been in
And did well until
while on board a ship
He dove into the pool
and cracked his head bad
And they gave him a
medical discharge
He returned to the
states and wasn’t quite
The same
But he married a nice
girl, worked hard and had two kids;
One day when I was in
the Army in 1958
They pulled me out of
formation at Fort
Holabird
To tell me Craigie
had died;
He blacked-out, it
was thought,
And plowed into the
rear of a truck
On the way to work;
Thus ended the life
of my brother
The end of a
beautiful friendship
The beginning of a
life without him
But his picture and his
spirit are nearby,
The boy who fought
for me when bullies threatened
Who traded a thousand
tales with me
Who when we walked
together
Threw his arm around
my shoulders
Because we were
buddies
Now he has Uncle Lee
to put his arm around
Along with his mother
That’s the way we
think in this family
And that’s the way it
is
[David Dix 1-9-2003 ]
At Frame Park formal gardens 1948
Craigie, me and cocker spaniel Trooper
Craigie, me and cocker spaniel Trooper
^,^
from
Gravity
by John Frederick Nimssent to the Raccoon by Delaware Bentz
... there—in fields of space—is where she shines,
Ring-mistress of the circus of the stars,
Their prancing carousels, their ferris wheels
Lit brilliant in celebration. Thanks to her
All’s gala in the galaxy.
Down here she
Walks us just right, not like the jokey moon
Burlesquing our human stride to kangaroo hops;
Not like vast planets, whose unbearable mass
Would crush us in a bear hug to their surface
And into the surface, flattened. No: deals fairly.
Makes happy each with each: the willow bend
Just so, the acrobat land true, the keystone
Nestle in place for bridge and for cathedral.
Let us pick up—or mostly—what we need:
Rake, bucket, stone to build with, logs for warmth,
The fallen fruit, the fallen child
. . . ourselves.
SRN adds this
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CYQ1cjghzA0
^,^
And another baton is passed
John Helt holds soon-to-stride Lyda
as new year arrives...
g
