A Study in Pain Part II: letter in the desk drawer


It's been a long time since I've seen you, son
Once the ground thaws a bit more
I must rake our lawn, and gardens

I'd always hoped you'd do well
yet another month is gone, and I think over
how long it's been since I've seen you

I remember one Saturday bubbling with sun
Your mother and I cradled you on that Florida shore
before we ever thought to rake lawns, or gardens

Living in trailer parks and browned by the sun
your mother and I danced our youth so muscular
so much I ache with the tired soreness of missing you

I, too, was fooled by youth; it's a fragile thing
broken like late night bottles against roadsides and doors
and it's why I must rake our lawn, and gardens

in spring to make room for seed sprouts to drink
the damp soil, sun, changing hours
to ensure I don't forget why it's been so long, son

So I rake our lawn, never forgetting your soil was from my garden

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