There's been no desire in me to force them
to carry children they never wanted
I don't understand how it turned into
shouting about how I'm allowed no decision
To somehow liken me to an enemy
of the natural order of pregnancy and birthright
only because I said I wanted mine -
and that I've been having a real hard time
These are poems for fathers and grandfathers, written by Michael R. Burch.
Sunset
by Michael R. Burch
This poem is dedicated to my grandfather, George Edwin Hurt Sr.
Between the prophecies of morning
and twilight’s revelations of wonder,
the sky is ripped asunder.
The moon lurks in the clouds,
waiting, as if to plunder
the dusk of its lilac iridescence,
and in the bright-tentacled sunset
we imagine a presence
full of the fury of lost innocence.
