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Dad, I see you stretched
Out into thin alpine air
Your deck at 3000 feet
Your pain like mine, but
Dad You are like your son
I suffer in my neck my head
And your dog Julie sits
Crooked because she has
Pain in her left upper leg
Oh she cannot run
Like streaks of lightning
And you cannot heft
Hundreds of pounds
Like a bull man you
Used to be, I cannot
Walk like photographs
Of wilderness with my
DSLR, so I come to watch
With others at the wind
Of mixed colors into green.
Red and blue, of pain
Like you because I
Am your son, and damnit
We hurt, and cannot cry
Out to drain our manhood
To live disabled through
Life, so tears do not fall
From weakened eyes,
From witness called friend.

copyright Charles Taylor 2017

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