Measure
Today, as I shed selfish tears, the child
who lives within me sees my loss refracted
by the prism of my father’s tears
on the day of the first death I knew,
when he had to give Mom the news
her father’s heart had finally failed.
Silently, he held her, his shoulders shaking,
as she howled her pain against his chest.
Quiet tears of empathy filled his eyes,
this the only time I ever saw him cry.
Such was the measure of this man,
the loss which hurt him most was not his own.
This poem is from the chapbook Relict by Brian Mosher (Finishing Line Press), and can be found at https://www.finishinglinepress.com/product/relict-by-brian-mosher/
Brian Mosher can not remember a time when he didn’t write. Beginning with fictional “biographies” of friends in High School, to Bob Dylan-inspired song lyrics during what should have been college years, to music reviews for multiple underground publications in the early 2000s, writing has always been part of how he identifies himself and how he examines the world around him.
The Paddock Review 