Blind was I through all my youth
to heart's pain and fading dreams
seen only in my father's eyes.
Sacrifice and strength
weakness, meanness and sudden anger
I thought the measure of my father's life
Fool was I through all my youth
that I thought anger the measure of the man
and never saw the world behind his eyes.
His wife, his work his sons, his girl
were not the measure of the man
I never heard the anguish in his voice.
His tiredness, frustration, weary resignation
were never close to the bounds of him
and never spoke truth to those he loved.
What bounds were there
that eyes of youth could never see
and mindless inexperience comprehend.
The killing rage of a protective father's love
the energy spent when strength was gone
a hawks vision in fading eyes.
I never learned the limits of the man.