1933 his mother spoke in fairy tales
as they put his dad to rest at St. Blaze,
the cemetery where all the Cruz’ lay
.
1944 he killed a girl in Europe, though
she wasn’t the enemy, and in 1950 he
buried his first wife under a tract house in
Levittown, she wasn’t the enemy either
.
in ’52 a son born, a kitten without claws,
was by 1960 well-nigh crushed by
the red raging bellicosity of his father
a man is a man is a man, he'd preached, as
he made his way through life in armor plate
© 2017, poem and photo, Jamie Dedes (The Poet by Day & Coffee, Tea and Poetry), All rights reserved
One comment-
Renee said on July 26, 2017
Really liked your post Jamie. Something, that without knowing how you came to write it, could be very true for so many. Lives are complicated and complex.
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