One of Those Days

One of those days Dad,
One of those days where
I reached in my pocket for my phone
To call you Dad
Just to chat and see what’s on your mind
Maybe share some things
On mine
Just to tell you how well I grilled the chicken
Share some love for each other
And for life or
Just talk about the weather
Between the pauses of silence
A knowing, the knowing
One of those days Dad
Of knowing
How much I missed you Dad
How much I miss you now, Dad
One of those days,
One of those days.

Handcrafted poetry by John M. Hines, A Sunday in August, 2016

Blue Red Yellow

Having awakened with the sun’s rays on Sunday morning,

The ocean waves white noise app having done its job,

And no longer able to quiet the thoughts energized by

The potential brought on by a new day.


Songs of potential sung by the song birds singing

Ushering in the day with their own brand of wake up music,

Faintly remembering my last dream-

Trying to explain Bandini to a pair of luthiers who had never read Fante.


And then remembering the events of last night that kept us awake after SNL,

The sounds of sirens of first responders arriving at the next street over,

The text from my daughter’s best friend and 21st birthday celebrant

Arriving simultaneously alerting us to something grim.


“Lots of cops on next street over. Ambulance. Fire trucks.”

Flashing blue lights filling the cool night air.

We walked outside as Mama pulled up the active crime scenes on her phone.

“111.295 Battery. Shooting.” Shots fired. Person down.


A tragic scene reduced to 2 words and 6 numbers.

Neighbors. Anonymous.

Never knew them.

Never saw them in their front yard.


Walked outside and around the corner and watched

What seemed to still be an active scene,

Holding my daughter’s hand in my heart,

So thankful she was home safely from the night’s reveries.


Walked back inside. Disturbed. Sad.

Now quiet outside.  Blue lights dimmed. Investigators busy.

Ambulance leaving scene with intermittent sirens, red lights flashing.

Yellow tape wrapped around trees and power poles.


Yellow tape so reminiscent of the yellow ribbons

Placed in hope of soldiers’ safe return home to family,

Dear neighbor we never knew,

Prayers go up for you today in hope of safe returns.

Handcrafted poetry by John M. Hines, 04/17/2016