She Moves Forward

She steps out of the door and moves

forward. Before her are her dreams,

the things she wants and needs, the

hopes and likes and loves of her life

that are yet to come. They have plagued her,

these dreams, haunted her waking hours

for so many years that she has come to

resent their pressure, the weight of them

on her daily life.

Today she is weightless.

Today is the leaving day, the day

when she goes out into the world, to make

of it what she can. She hopes to find joy

out there

joy in being, a feeling that she has yet to touch

her. She does not know if what she is will be

enough for the world, and she knows that

the world may be too much for her, but

she will try.

She will try.

Behind her, they smile and wave and wish

her well, and then they close the door and

let her go

and tears

flow.

Being A Father

Being a father.
This is difficult.
I am one,
I am the son of one,
I am the son of many
Gone before
And never known.
I’ve never known
The one I have
And he has known
The same of me.
We are two strangers,
Too strange
In too many ways.
We’ll never know each other now,
We’ll never have that thing,
That father, son, and Sunday roast,
Family thing.
Maybe it’s that,
The way we’ve been,
That makes it sometimes hard
For me to be
The father I should
To my own boy.
I’ve set bad examples,
I know I have.
I still do.
I’m slack and selfish,
Stubborn,
Bad tempered,
Though occasionally nice.
I haven’t guided him,
Advised him,
Haven’t really talked to him,
When I should have done
Or even could have done.
I left him to grow into himself,
Like I was left
To become the man I am.
And look how that turned out!
But hey,
The thing I did do,
The thing I did right,
The thing I’ll do ’til the day I die
Was love him.
Always have.
Always will.