O Father, Wherefore Art Thou?

O you of strong shoulders

Hands quaking, aching to hold boulders

In place of warm hands and hot meals

Your hoe carving furrows

Sending a message, it burrows 

Deep into my heart. 

 

Yes you of soft tongues

Flowing from strong lungs

 Knowing how it feels

To describe the world

caving in, unfurled

You make solemnity an art. 

 

I may not understand why

you chose this life but I

heard the words she used

in describing you

I know it isn’t true

But we were torn apart.

 

Yet I never thought to laugh

At the things she said your path 

Was confusing bemused

By you as if you were two 

different beasts. Untrue

You’re pulling the same cart.  

 

Never waiting you are its driver

Pressing onward a survivor

Setting the past behind

But never pausing to rewind

But I think you should.

 

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