Uncle Adam
Each turning of the page
Erodes your image of ashen tones
Sharp edges subtly disintegrate
Into faded contrasts
Between shadow and sunlight
When I was a child
Your love cascaded over me
And I laughed and danced
I recall only your voice
The urgency of your words
And the gentle way they became
blood
Seeking out a vein to heal my wounds
It is the place in my memory
Where the silences begin
My wounds never did heal,
uncle Adam
And I never became the healer
You wanted me to become
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© 1991 Cal Thunder Hawk |