Parenting Son

Never easy father
have I become
to a seldom-slacking son;
question riddled, answer starved.

Ever damning teacher,
steadfast I brim
with random Herculean challenges;
love infused, tone obscured.

Always impossible mentor
inspired to pontificate
by the man emerging, boy folding in;
scout the penitent gentleman.

Posted on Sunday, March 14th, 2010 at 6:48 am. Filed under: Words Tags: poetry, writing RSS 2.0 feed.