Occupied

As a boy, I'd find my father

sitting in the pitch dark living room,

cigarette aglow, as I'd pass

from my bed to the bathroom.

Did the boy consider, at that late hour,

what plans or fears occupied the man?

Not at all, nor did the man share

with the passing boy what he thought.

Now he's gone. Back from that piss

and many another, I can well imagine

the mystery I must be to my son.

Has much changed but the date and where the man fought?

Most men, most times, abide in peace,

leastwise not always angry or afraid

they cannot save their children from the gas

or the abyss about which God lied.

Yet, when the boy dreams through the room

in the movement of his body there's a sleepiness

to make the man weep for himself, his father

and the boy who comes to the darkness unafraid.

Author's Note

“And he is generous, and brave, and when the darkness comes to him he does not sit and weep.” --The Leopard Woman