Shenanigans

 ‘shenanigans, and’ Trgates,7/2/2026

wee lad and grandpa talked that night,
a stroll in a heaven’s dream,
others asleep, we visited.
“see you later.”
years later in a day’s fall
after my firstborn arrived,
at twenty-two my translucent blue eyed
best friend said goodbye too,
still feel his gleam daily.
“it’s only in your head,” some dismissed.
and?
grandpas and grandmas get it,
days for arguments
claims of being right
justifications of nations warring
lockstep to another’s creeds —
gone.
sitting with friends until you look forward
to that day you’ll chat again,
when the ancients are face to face too
when war stories are gone
when perhaps frisbees and baseballs
return like boomerangs
when fantasies of 24/7 worship
or 24/7 freedom to indulge
when golden streets and pearly gates
find their goal in just being with each other.
Pooh’s friends,
with all of their shenanigans,
sometimes attentive to each other
sometimes not so much,
always Christopher Robbin’s A.A. Milne’s
storytelling
somewhere between
Pooh and Eeyore
we find what
grandpas and grandmas,
and children get.
A Hundred Acre Wood’s quite cool