Hiding Themselves:

Staring at the closed door

Thinking only of what is behind it

Simply an attic door

Yet what is behind it

Is more than a simple thing

A baby bootie

A wedding photo

A dancing shoe

A dusty Bible

A hiking boot

Of what he's lost

These just remain

Neither is gone

Yet aren't with him still

His baby is older now

Tightly locked into his room

Crying silent tears

As he cuts

His wife, still so lovely

So wrapped into the bottle,

Out every night

Seeking a new life

What used to be,

How happiness used to flutter

In her eyes as they danced

Across a hardwood floor

The fact that she felt

So right, held close

In his arms

Dancing away the night

Seems so long ago

Each Sunday, he used

To take the family to a little

Baptist church across town

And while the preacher

Spoke of love, brimstone, and fire

And the congregation said amen

He was right there with them,

Amen-ing too

Writing down verses of scripture

Singing hymn after hymn

Loving it all a little too much

And every other Saturday,

Up in the mountains he'd be

Sometimes he'd take his beloved son along

But that's gone now,

All he has to show for

Being up on that mountain was

A broken leg and

Forty-eight hours before they found him

And he, he is still

Watching his home fall apart

Unable to stop it

So he tries to drown his

Problems in work

What happened

To make this so?

What caused this all?

He does not recall

Several events

But he blames himself

His diabetes,

His cancer:

His weakness

Broke his family

He feels the pain

That he forces on himself

He sees himself as

The reason for the

Family of his, whom

He loves dearly

Turning away,

And hiding themselves