Thursday, August 19, 2004

Reflections

tanka


Innocent child hiding there
behind mother's skirts,
you'll not hide forever there,
life does not allow
such artful simplicity.



When I was a boy I always knew my father loved me. But I was not a very good son. Oh, I didn’t go to reform school or jail or do drugs or anything terrible like that. But I wasn’t very good at anything, I was skinny, wore glasses, had an inferiority complex, wasn’t great in school, and, like all boys, I guess, did a lot of stupid things. And, of course, for a time I believed I knew far more than my father or anyone else.

I wish I could have been a father before I was a son.

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