Herman Gunther

When TV crime shows
do their work, they leave us certain
that causes can be determined
for everything
that has ever happened. 

But when old Herman Gunther
was found suspended upside down
in his oak tree, twenty feet up and shirtless,
his wheel chair still parked neatly on the porch
a whole yard’s width away,
his eyes wide and staring,
all I could think of was this:

late at night
I sometimes get an urge
to clean my windows.
That doesn’t make sense,
so I never do; maybe Herman
had an urge to fly
and after all these years,
he did, or tried to,
and amazed himself
until his heart failed
and he fell.

Cardiac arrest,
the techs said.  Circumstances
leading to the death
were unclear and the investigation
would remain open.

I watched them
scratching their heads.
I watched them all night
as I wiped the grime from my glass
and thought,
and thought,
and thought some more.