(UNDER CONSTRUCTION)
Father Doctor 6/10/05 Continued from page 1... (page 2 of 2)
...Football season. Ten dollars. Your hands.
I lie naked on wax paper and cold vinyl.
I stand, �Yeah, flat feet, like my Dad.�
You say, �Cough, like this. Cah-huh! Again.�
Your hands. A skilled surgeon. You removed a hernia from my groin
And left no scar, on my birth day�
Your hands. Delivering babies at the hospital.
Into them, my blue body ejected.
My mother, relieved. Nine pounds, in your hands! So big, and SO late...
A scar on my right hand.
Thunder and blood on broken glass.
A phone call in the night, and you open your office, for me.
Your hands wrap strips of gauze
Like an army medic
In wartime.
No battle necessary. But
Crack! and break! the sky
With smoke and fire on the 4th of July.
�Aren�t you going?� we ask.
You�ll have none of that, you tell us.
The stars shine bright enough
On that peaceful field of blue,
Thank you;
Without the glaring rockets.
Besides,
You have seen
Enough red stripes
On your hands
To last a lifetime.
Did you know, that you are
The Father-Doctor of my soul?
* * *
Thank you, Dr. LaMar, for your lifetime of service to our small town; for your stories, for your tenderness, and for your father�s love. Thank you, Heavenly Father, for his head, his heart, and his hands. Amen.
Paynetown, MD...
(just S/W of the
Snow Hill city limits)...