Comment on this
A Son Of His
by Pat Paulk
He grew old before I was ready
though it happened fairly late in life.
His vision sees only shadows now
and his memories are without date.
Stories that I used to relish hearing
get lost from start to finish.
His breath is no longer free
itís inhaled from a tube and invoiced monthly.
Legs that walked years of wooded land
only bend to fit the chair he rides.
But Iím proud to be a son of his
and will be Ďtil the day I die