Poetry

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My Son, My Son
Icy hands gripped my heart
Squeezing tight and cold,
My boy had gone into the deep
To a place I could not go.
Sent away with blessings
I was proud but sad,
To a place of higher learning
Someday he'd be a grad.
My arrow loosed toward the West
Its arc thought straight and true,
Somehow was deflected
By something dark and new.
It started just short of virtue
A harmless test with friends,
But then it grew and grew
Too large for him to mend.
A father's job entrusted
A path secure for twenty years,
But all my hopes fell into dust
I'm broken and in tears.
The days and nights go by now
Defeat so close at hand,
Light and darkness pass in a blur
This pain I didn't plan.

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