I see you staring
aching to act on my behalf.
Yet you yearn too late,
my defenses have died
with a family on a farm,
and lessons of life are already learned.
Dearest Father,
The lessons I learned from you
were taught in tears,
caused calluses,
brought blood,
all in the name of love.
I thank you for my pains,
For now I know
evil earns its affliction.
Dearest Mother,
The lessons I learned from you
were sealed by severance,
forged with frost,
deepened by distance,
all in the name of love.
I thank you for my pains,
For now I know
independence isn’t instinct.
Dearest Brother,
The lessons I learned from you
were done through running,
found in frailty,
withered by weakness,
all in the name of love.
I thank you for my pains,
For now I know
cowardice kills cunning.
So save your
chivalry
for someone worth winning.
I need nearly nothing
your hide can provide.
I’ve won my freedom
from the folks on the farm.
And I believe my bitterness
will salve these scars.
Raychel
Vanderhoff
Approx. August 1997
