On Monday night, September 25, 2006
The hated Atlanta Falcons were set to invade
New Orleans and the Louisiana Superdome
The city and its people still reeling in the couvade
Dumped by the might and fury of Hurricane Katrina
To take on our beloved boys in black and gold

Aglow and sparkling in the ethers of the night
The reborn Superdome unveiled on worldwide television
No longer the ravaged cavern that was a last minute haven
Ripped apart by the might and fury of Hurricane Katrina
For that one night, the images of past raw misery graven
In the psyche of the city and its people suspended in abeyance

On that Monday night, fervent hope and anticipation
Pervaded in the Superdome, in the streets of New Orleans and beyond
When Green Day and U2 performed their inspirational duet
“The Saint are Coming, The Saints are Coming”
Emotions ratcheted into excitement of monumental proportions
Setting the stage for an unforgettable homecoming

When our beloved boys in black and gold took to the field
Our voices rose as one in thunderous homage
Young and old, men and women, friends and strangers
The might and fury of Hurricane Katrina rendered into ashen memory
For that one Monday night, the Saints were our Lone Rangers
Out to erase the daily injustice of trudges, drudges and grudges

Prayers and arcane recitations filled the air
In between Hank Williams, Jr. belting the MNF anthem
And Irma Thomas singing the Star Spangled Banner
Then the game commenced, the Saints versus the Falcons
T’was Coach Sean Payton’s home debut as master game planner
But it was Number 37 that stole the show and set the tone

Like the floodwaters that broke through the earthen levees
Propelled by the might and fury of Hurricane Katrina
Saints special teams guru Steve Gleason, that was his name
Blasted up the middle and blocked that first Falcons punt
Barely one and half minutes into the game
The loose ball pounced on in the end zone, touchdown for the Saints!

Photo by Michael DeMocker
September 25, 2006
Times Picayune archives

Pandemonium broke loose in the Superdome
In a decibel splitting aria our voices rose as one
Who Dat! Who Dat! Who Dat says they’s gonna beat dem Saints!
The Falcons knew then and there they were done
Bowing in acknowledgement to the inevitable conclusion
This Monday night undeniably belonged to New Orleans

23-6 was the final score of the game that Monday night
Steve Gleason’s heroics etched forever in Saints lore
The Saints made it that year to their first ever NFC championship game
Along the way, there were many more unforgettable moments agalore
Lifting New Orleans and Saints faithful fans more and more
Out of the heartbreak wrought by the might and fury of Hurricane Katrina

And before you wonder why I chose to write a football related poem
It was born out of perfect timing and inspiration
Because on September 25, 2011, five years later
Before the Saints took on the Houston Texans in the Dome
Faithful Saints fans rose in standing ovation
Welcoming honorary captain Steve Gleason home

Our homage was not without sadness and heartache
For earlier that day it became public knowledge
Our hero who blocked that Falcons punt at that Monday night game
Has been diagnosed with Lou Gehrig’s disease
We all will forever remember Steve Gleason’s name
And offer our continued love, support and prayers for his personal battle

Photo by John McCusker
September 25, 2011
Times Picayune

©Lynn Kupfer
All Rights Reserved 2011

Quite the feat for momma cat, small as she was
We protectively watched over them all
And soon it became such a joy to come home
And find seven pairs of eyes gazing up at us
From the depths of their cardboardbox home
And momma cat waiting patiently nearby
We delighted in their antics and playfulness
As they explored the limits of the porch
All too soon came the day that was foretold to happen
Our time of fostering this little family was done
Holding back tears we said goodbye yesterday
To five orange striped, one black, one calico-shaded
And their sweet tempered little mother
Secure that they will all be adopted
The silence of this cold January Sunday is strange
Yet we are kept warm by the photos and our memories
And the thirty two footprints in our hearts

©Lynn Kupfer
All Rights Reserved

She was soon quick to gently hint
Not to waste the flavorful water
Whenever I opened a can of tuna fish
But he would turn up his nose at my offering
Stalk off with a superior-than-thou ‘tude
Then when he thought I wasn’t watching
He’d come back and lap up every last drop

She didn’t grumble nor mumble
When he insisted on sharing her bed
His favorite spot is right under her left arm
That slinky, lanky furred body couldn’t possibly
Weigh more than six pounds dripping wet
I’m amazed at how little room there’s left for her

Oh, he had his precious moments
The way he stole milk from our cups
Dipping and licking one paw at a time
The way he sprawled on the corner of the bed
Lazily watching us dress for work
Then chased after her, batting at her legs
As if commanding her to stay home with him

He insistently demanded his kitty treats from her
Often with loud meows if she’s slow
But he showed more than just a casual interest
In what I eat those days
He knew if he sat patiently enough
I’ll share some pieces of my meat with him

TWo years after moving in with me
His favorite places became more numerous
He’d taken to jumping on her computer desk
When he wanted her undivided attention
But he occassional would stalk close to mine
And accept short hand-to-cheek rubs from me
He still preferred to hang out on her lap
Or lay on the sofa above her head when she read

And he would wrap his paws around her neck
When she picked him up and hugged him
He was still very much a one woman cat
But I think he eventually also accepted me as a friend
Since he knew that I loved her too.

©L. Kupfer
all rights reserved
~ in memory of Smoky ~
~ who passed over the Rainbow Bridge in July of 2003 ~

Yea, fine, whatever
Yes, perhaps, it was my mistake
To spring my new found relationship on you
Without sufficient warning
But I was a fool in believing
That being honest and open
Was better than hiding behind
That damned wall of silence

For all your talk about trust
You’ve really never forgiven me
For coming out that day in May so many years ago
Or you’ve really never forgiven me
For breaking out of the mold
In which you so carefully created and shaped
Out of your expectations for your firstborn

I’m sorry, but I’m not going back
Into that closet where I hid for so long
No matter how much you want me to
And I’m not going to conform
To your version of “don’t ask, don’t tell”
This is the life that I chose to live
It fits me better than the life
You would rather I have chosen

I will always be your daugther
But I’m not going back to being the little girl
That sought to please you at every turn
By meeting your unrealistic expectations
And “doing the right thing”
I will only do what I feel is right for me
And I’m not going back

If you can’t accept
That I’m an adult in my own right
With the right to love who I choose to love
You can’t possibly know
Just how happy I am with who I am now
Who I’ve become
And who shares my life with me…
So if you don’t wish to know that side of me
Then, I have nothing more to say
Except that it’s really your loss.

all rights reserved
L. Kupfer

Time… Distance… Space…
Faded and retreated
Before the sheer power
Of that moment of realization
As I knelt before Her

The very air enveloped us
In a mantle of intimacy
That only comes from a mutual journey
Of two souls answering the call
Of an ancient hunger

My eyes lifted to Hers
In perfect love and trust
My pledge and my promise
Freely given without reservation
Spoken from the heart
With both voice and hands
For Her eyes and ears alone

I bowed my head
Under the tender benediction of Her smile
Breathless in anticipation
Aware of only Her presence
And the destination of
The slender chain of gold

Slender chain of gold
Link in the unending circle of life
That brought us both to this golden path
Layered depths still open to exploratoin
Serene knowing of promises to unfold
As limits are conquered

Her slender chain of gold
Now encircles my neck
Tangible anchor and symbol
So light, so natural, so right
Yet so enriching and so deeply fulfilling
To my soul
And I am complete.

L. Kupfer
all rights reserved