men don't cry

    our backs almost touch
    the (recovery) house wall i sit
    in a chair and my father
    in a (wheel) chair we look
    at the tree across the street
    they don't grow that tall and strong
    in Poland he says (in Polish of course)
    but U did i think (without words of course)
    and i say in California
    they're still taller and
    i wait for lightning to strike the tree
    in this fine weather in this fine weather
    a van has shattered
    my father's leg and broke his neck
    when he was crossing Plymouth Road
    he had almost recovered then after a fall
    he broke his neck again a lightning
    in California struck a five thousand year old tree
    and there was tree no more
    he is only eighty six
    we sit in the shadow
    the creamy protective collar around his neck
    somehow reflects light

                          Wlodzimierz Holsztynski ©
                                  1998-06-25