Charlie Neadom | King David

I know of a father and a son
who no longer speak.
At least not to each other.
One day son
was honest with father
and father excepted him
for who he was.
And they never spoke again –
at least not to each other.
And only rarely speak of one another,
but on seldom occasions
when certain names need mention
it is never without that stare
which cuts
through inquisitors’ existence
onto imaginary screens
where motion memories play
out of focus flashbacks
shot with an old handheld.
A boy and a man
sharing blurred laughter;
grainy smiles
disappear on a ruined reel
aged with misunderstanding,
brittle with grudge.

I know of a father
who retired in Tulsa
only to enjoy the destructive winds
of earth
and not of life.
He lives with his wife
and hosts Christmas
for his daughters
and their families.
He shows special attention
and almost compassion,
they notice,
to one of his grandsons
in whose face he sees likeness
of another boy he once knew
but tries hard to forget.

I know of a son
who holds a well-paying job
and has a grill
and a fireplace
where friends can enjoy both –
depending on the weather.
And every Christmas he sends
a card
to sisters and mother
and he receives one
from sisters and mother,
and father,
the latter two noticeably signed
in the same gentle script.

I know of a man
who struggles with one love
from loss of another.
But he is strong, and he is beautiful.
I am his Prince Charles,
and he is my King David.

Charlie Neadom is always trying to find new ways to look at the same things and is probably puddle-jumping somewhere in the Pacific Northwest.  To see what he’s up to check out




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One Response to Charlie Neadom | King David

  1. Betty Martin January 11, 2018 at 7:19 pm #

    Deeply sad relations, but salted with gifts that loosing delivers. Those losses show us about others and oddly alter us to be more feeling.

    Bonnie Prince Charles indeed.
    nice lines.

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