John

My Dad was a tough guy,

but not like John is tough.

When John was too young to remember

he must have felt inside his body a heart,

a brain, vital organs and knew everything was in place.

It was all up to him.

There was no drift.

Never.

There was always a plan

to use everything that was John,

to do everything that had to be done.

What appeared to be fear

must have been a lightness in his chest

that lifted his heart

and made a springboard for his courage.

Now, everyday he looks death in the eye.

He spits on it.

He’s like my father,

but tough in more ways.

Comments are closed.