BENEATH THE SPIN • ERIC L. WATTREE

Howling Winds

As I watched my son, dapper as they come, walk down
Our walkway and into manhood, what I remember most is
The rushing wind. I'd seen such winds before, but
Never like this--my old foe was pulling up trees by
The roots.

So I watched, but I watched alone.

As the winds raged on and the mighty palms bowed, a
Single leaf from our Winter bare Ficus Tree
Held tough against the ferocious storm; It fought
Valiantly against the angry gale, as though hanging
On just to witness the changing of the guard.

So I stood, but I stood alone.

Like that solitary leaf, all my life I've fought the
Ferocious winds, and now they've returned, this
Mighty foe, poised to seize the hopes and dreams of
My only son.

So I cringed, but I cringed alone.

But then, posterity glanced back and squared its
Shoulders, beat back hopelessness as it trudged
Through fields of ivy, then spread its wings and rode
Those howling winds over yonder mountaintop...

So I wept, but I wept with a crowd.

God Bless America.

Eric L. Wattree