Poor Old David
Words I’ve heard my whole life
Poor old David, poor old Michael, poor old daddy
If you’re from the heart of Appalachia, these are…
Words that mean the person is down on their luck,
Lost in the faded breathe of shadows, dimmed
By the hasty edges of a darkness built from sickness,
Depression and doubt, the disillusionment
Detailed in throw away images that never last
Because after the last breathe, the picture that remains
Inside the heart is a picture perfect moment
When there was sunshine and laughter, a beautiful
So stunning it cries out to the hopefulness
Promising grief it will, in time, find relief in the memories
The times when poor old David held his newborn,
Sucked on slices of watermelon as he watched his granddaughter
Race across the sunset on a pony we called Molly,
Or felt the assurance of a dream realized by the deer
He’d just watched pass from this life into his awaiting freezer
Yet, he remains Poor Old David until the moment of darkness
Has passed from tragedy to trembling truth, intimate
As the focus on the lens that remembers to reflect the wonderful
Despite the regrets that test the limits of yesterday’s feelings
Poor old David will forever be invincible to the ones
Who treasure his amazingly rich and beautifully young
Memories… in those, he is the source of the heartfelt tenderness!
|