The most painful
Thing for me
Is watching you
Fall and choosing
Not to run
To your side
At some point
In every boy’s
Life he’s got
To learn that
Only he can
Stand himself up
And face bullies
Whatever they are
This is the
Hardest and greatest
Gift anyone can
Give to someone
That they love
I pray that
You will rise
It is in
These early dawn
Hours when asleep
You all are
That I find
My greatest peace
You still sleeping
Yet I am
Now dreaming these
Delicate petit fours
Sweet and savory
Morsels of memory
That tickle and
Hang and dissolve
And disappear into
Another and another
These waves coming
Ashore bringing with
Them trinkets of
By gone times
That I collect
Like a child
On Coney Island
Wondering where they
Started then remembering
It was there
Of course way
Way out there
And reaching out
To the horizon
I pinch that
Thin line between
Sea and sky
Gone they go
Replaced now by
Your sleepy eyes
Looking at me
Standing amidst fields
Of wheat I
Hear the delicate
Sound of wind
Pushing the kernels
Together like my
Mother’s brush on
Linoleum floors in
Other people’s homes
Standing here free
From those days
So long ago
This sound sings
Now to me
Degrees of simple
Silence a place
Of quiet forgiveness
For her many
Years of sadness
There is one
Thing that every
Living thing does
At least once
And it’s not
The thing that
You’re thinking now
But perhaps it’s
The thing that
You’re doing now
It’s this smile
It is in
These wee cool
Hours before dawn
While I wade
In the shallows
Of my emotions
And feel the
Small fish and
Salamanders nip and
Brush against me
Tickling and dancing
Knowing they are
There simply by
Feeling them near
Isn’t that love
Curiosity and happenstance
And the chance
Of brief affection
Let those come
And touch you
HARLAN DIDRICKSON 