by Bradley Earle Hoge
The rock crumbles
a little bit – history crystalline
between my fingers
rock cliffs eroding into sand and silt
The sunset reminds me of Cap –
Grandfather
onslaught of rain and wind
tumbling into streams
The man who survived
Louisiana summers on the farm
before the modern convenience of Freon
saltating
along river bottoms
reaching the ocean despite floods
the depression, world wars
fighting bravely
raising a family of seven
losing two at birth,
storms and drought
settling into bed of sediment
one as a young adult – complications
of trisomy 21
compacted, cemented
together over time
uplifted
who became an electrician and worked
his way up
in the union, in his church, in his son’s eyes
by tectonic forces
raised to mountain tops
heated by metamorphosis into schist
sand grains
who retired and made toys
for grandkids and Church auctions
returned to his garden
enlarged into glimmering rolling sheets
as if tread on
by 18-wheel semis
resting quietly the man
who died of asbestosis
who wasn’t bitter
he had a family to support
for millions of years until intruded
by magma cooling
within the schist forcing the sand grains
to recrystalize
how could he make different choices?
how could he sacrifice more?
into black and white, horneblende
and quartz, the man
who when he died
promised and delivered
banded
together and large enough
his soul back to us from heaven
to sparkle like ancestry in a child’s eyes
our adopted son
Beautiful! Brought tears to my eyes.
’ His soul back to us from heaven to sparkle like ancestry
in a child’s eyes ’
I really like this,really. I think that’s sort of a mixed metaphor at the end ?