Torn Wing: An Elegy To Childhood
When I found the bearded man, we looked into each others eyes as if to say, "I remember you, do you remember me?"
He would have been my father’s age the last time I saw him when I was eighteen. The memory of his abandonment bowed my head with shame. As he stood over me, the shadow from his towering body shrouded my own strong body and beautiful mind.
I looked into the eyes of the betraying father I missed and loved, not the man he really was, but the man I wanted him to be. I walked away tormented by my father's fall from grace, homeless, on the sidewalk, eating an ear of corn.