A poem for a particular person, who probably never truly understood how I revered them. |
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HeroDid you ever know that you’re my heroand everything I’d like to be? A line from Willie that stops me in mid-stride, like a known face on the street, smiling, carried in my back pocket, folded Opened when my faith is shaky, confidence coming undone at the seams Do you know you get me through from there, and does it matter, the knowing? What is a hero, but a reflection, an image of ourselves as we would like to be The hidden, drowning parts of me are all there shining, polished and smoothed out, by the lady who taught me most of what I know So if there’s anything to see in me at all of love or understanding, some residual value It’s across my shoulder, where a woman stands, who raised the tattered flag that’s me Life’s a battle and when the smoke has died away, the bodies are counted and armistices signed I’ll know, they needn’t understand how far you carried me Did you ever know that you’re my hero and everything I’d like to be? Probably not in your nature to see yourself that way My designation not yours, so live with it After all, it’s only you and I need know the terms of how we recognize each other in the dark And that’s my vision, so slip it on and feel the warmth |
This poem is included in Jim Freeman's poetry collection CORNER OF MY MIND available here in print or as an e-Book in your favorite formats. |