Meth

Today, I met a sad father.

An Iraq vet,

Came home,

Did his time,

Heart is in purgatory,

I would have guessed him eighty,

Fifty-five,

Was shot in the back,

Served his time,

Love of his life,

His only smile,

His daughter,

Man’s a broken man,

See the light of his eyes always with him,

In spirit,

This Baptist,

This Iowan,

Died took meth once,

His daughter a follower like my sister Ellen,

She followed friends,

My sister was used and tossed aside by our half sister,

Both dead,

Before their time,

Both loved,

He lives with his ex-wife,

That wasn’t their problem they didn’t fall out of love,

The man,

The vet,

Wounded,

Outlived the love of his life,

She was only twenty-five,

Dust in the wind,

There’s a twinkle in his eyes when he talks about his wife,

She introduced herself as his ex-wife,

He never drew that distinction,

Thos man’s an alcoholic,

Alcoholics hide,

From the world,

From sadness,

In a void,

Empty,

Listen to “My Poetry” from Val’s Whitewolf Books on Anchor: https://anchor.fm/val-heike-whitewolf/episodes/My-Poetry-e244rbg/My-Poetry-a9rf030