Milton P. Ehrlich
Sitting in My Brother’s Back Yard Without My Brother
Even though he isn’t here, he’s here.
I can see him sitting next to me—
a Cessna Skycatcher soars overhead.
We listen to a gaggle of crackles
fly across the golf course beyond
his treasured weeping cherry tree.
He offers me a fig, explaining, the fig
Is actually a flower, and we eat the seeds.
He reminds me to savor his harvest
of Meyer lemons drooping before us.
He asks me to water his rose bushes
since he can’t maneuver the hose
as well as he used to from his wheel chair.
I suck on a bittersweet Meyer lemon.
A Life Almost Well Lived While Waiting for Joy
Born after the Crash,
he looked more sad
than he actually was—
he waits for summertime
to put a smile on his face.
Most alive out on a boat,
he’s a Shrink lifeguard
who saves lives under water—
like the young black girl
who drank some Clorox
to be whiter than white.
He never buries his nuts
for the inevitable winter—
except for advice from
his good friend Nathan,
who turns him on to buy
Buffet Berkshire’s gold.
He falls hopelessly in love
and is known to savor
a seven-decade marriage—
always the main thing.
Every day is the season to be jolly—
except if it’s raining like a pissing cow
while waiting for more joy.
Milton P. Ehrlich, Ph.D. is an 87-year old psychologist who has published many poems in periodicals such as the Toronto Quarterly, Wisconsin Review, Mobius, The Chiron Review, Samsara, Blue Collar Review, Allegro Poetry Review, Naugatauk River Review, Taj Mahal Review, Poetica Magazine, Christian Science Monitor and the New York Times.