Embracing the Scars
His face was like a train wreck,
forged by shrapnel and iron and blood.
Almost indiscernible-
a face that when it’s seen is marveled at...
but just as quickly forgotten.
He walks his dog,
his consistent friend,
as it bounds and bounces its way slowly beside him on three short legs.
Both friends seem happy as they smile.
He lives his life like a ‘80s’ song.
“Under Pressure” flows through him constantly defining him,
becoming his hymn.
He is known as the Tin Man,
heart before head,
three residents residing within-
remaining just as Paul had writ.
The Tin Man heroic in his deformities,
embraces life like a knight would embrace a lady.
Admiring her from afar,
courting her,
embracing her in his bed sheets.
He heeds all of her calls,
and chooses which to go to--
like choosing a dessert after Christmas dinner,
a sweet lemon pudding pie with clouds of golden meringue or
a pie baked with Morello cherries in need of chocolate ice cream to make it sweet or
the two-crust traditional apple with classic homemade vanilla on the side?
A smorgasbord in which to feast,
upon life's joys and bitterness and traditions.
The Tin Man walks upon two legs,
one that was given and the another that was earned--
a titanium leg incapable of feeling warmth or cold.
Lucky,
bounces along beside him on his leash,
the wind brushes his golden fur;
his face adorned by scars,
one eye blind, under which a splinter of glass still dwells -
catching the orange light in the painted horizon of the sunrise,
and then the atmosphere catching the glint the splinter casts out into the cool air;
his tail care freely plays in the comforting breeze.
Daydreaming about fuzzy green tennis balls whirring through the air and
thinly cut pieces of steak that have mystically made their way into his red food bowl and
teasing the black cat.