For Troy (Childlike, a Poem)

For Troy (Childlike) This is the hope of glory: rebirth with access to doe eyes, to boyish naivety or girlish glow. There is a growing young.

This is the hope of glory: to know the world of monstrous men who rule by violence, sex, and tricks, and to remember fear of this dark.

This is the hope of glory: clomping in creation’s garden, wobbly-kneed in father’s boots, laughter spilling into Spring’s buttercups.

This is the hope of glory: feeling the decadent evening love rising warm in pinking cheeks, covering eyes to things not for children.

This is the hope of glory: the wonder of traveling mercies, snowy peaks and Carolina tide, and ever asking “are we there yet?”


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