I walk with my father into <br />the heart of the lion, <br />the maelstrom of paternal love- <br /> <br />I do not know at this age <br />what is to come- <br />but these stars flare like <br />dismal fireflies; away from me- into <br />the hand of this man who cannot be told <br />the difference between: <br />innocence and patience- <br />who cannot be loved in such a way, <br />his hands will turn tender and his eyes <br />soft- <br /> <br />Like the years of his life <br />his tongue carries a spark- and while <br />he receives wisdom from the Watcher, <br />he does not wake long enough to teach me: <br />the difference between grace and faith. <br /> <br />My father and I walk in long strides, <br />back and forth the wheat isles- <br />through valleys he recalls as a child who <br />walked with his own father. <br /> <br />What is strange; <br />this man never turns <br />to one side or the other- <br />glances this way, or in that direction- <br />but he creates the field <br />I will cultivate everyday until <br />my back breaks. <br /> <br />I walk with my father under <br />silver lined clouds that <br />accumulate too late in life- he fears <br />my tomorrow at the mercy of his hands <br />that are labored beyond salvation- tonight, <br />we step out onto the porch beneath <br />the summer solstice moon- and he says: <br />“ daughter, I have stories, many <br />stories to share with you” <br /> <br />It’s late evening and <br />the hour has already began to wane- <br />every moment he spends, sipping lilac wine <br />and reciting the days of his youth <br />as if it were my own- I learn neither the difference between: <br />the lesser of two tragedies; <br />his past, the absolute failure- and <br />my future, harboring the greater grief of being <br />without a father.<br /><br />Amberlee Carter<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-longest-mile/
