Tuesday, September 30, 2014

Headline Poem 9/30/14 -- He

He 

He wears an old Silver Wood hat,
and looks out of place in the passenger seat with 
two kids in the back. 
  His skin's tan and cracked,
the sprouting whiskers on his upper lip 
emerging from a one-day shave skip,
two Christmas tree air fresheners
dangle from the mirror, while 
his tissue peeks out of his sleeve. 

  He's driven now
by his oldest son 
who's challenged 
and changed him 
more than anyone. 
  He's suspicious, but 
tired. 
  He's proud, but 
knows the limitations 
    of silver eyes 
and
arms that move at half speed, 
and so 
  He waits 
to fulfill his 
new role in their predictable 
routine.