He awakens in the dark as his father had.

Neither silence nor the cold disturbs him.

There is much yet to do.  To him,

though the infinite is in constant whirl,

he feels its presence every day, in the hand.

The perpetual indifference of whiteness,

of the open ended, cuts little truth for him.


He has stored his words in places where only

his son will find them when the time comes.

He will know.  Long ago, he took up arms

against sorrow and shame, prepared a place

for him banishing all dominion of regret

to release him forever from its hold.


The moon has risen just in time.   

A lost bird calls out in the darkness.

We have come to a truth.  We watch, listen,

keeping understanding for ourselves,

father to son, and father to son again.


for Nick



Stephen Ruffus teaches at Salt Lake Community College in Salt Lake City, Utah.

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