I never met the gentleman above, but I felt I knew him slightly through Granny Smith's Blog.
When Otto died 'Granny' wrote about her husband, and she included a poem he once wrote. I asked permission to read the poem to my poetry group here in Australia. She, generously, gave permission and told me that I would be reading his verses on the very day of his memorial!
Here is a quote from 'Granny's' current blog:
"I would like to read one of Otto’s poems to you. Coincidentally, just yesterday, long after I had decided on this poem, a blogger friend in Australia e-mailed me for permission to use it in her literary group."
And here is the poem:
The sun orb at its noon zenith
casts my shrunken shadow around my feet.
It stretches out like a snake emerging
from his hole
then races east and south
as the sun swings low and north
until at sunset my shadow is infinitely long.
It sleeps fitfully
then jumps to life in the early midsummer morn.
Stonehenge points to the sun's
most northern emergence.
We mark each high point with such monuments:
greatest weight lifted
farthest discus thrown
largest pumpkin grown
We mark the onset of anxiety
that the sun will desert us quickly -
shorter days, longer noon shadows,
cooler nights, threat of winter.
We are anxious about the ebb,
the coming cold, slipping skills,
a loved one leaving.
What enchantment can keep this warmth with me?