One cloudy, coastal
afternoon,
hiding deep within your dim
apartment
(the smell of the ocean
drifting through your open window)
you dug your sharp chin and
crooked nose
into your tearful downpour upon
my left shoulder.
It was not long before…
when the roles were reversed.
Resilient in tornado winds,
a strength sprouts from the
fertile soil of your vulnerability.
So open to pain that you
weather its resolve.
Someday,
my brother’s children will
ask me about the wondrous things I have experienced,
and I will tell them what you
taught me:
"Life will push you into
oceans deep
and will clear a path made of
swamp.
So always keep your shoulder
dry
for the one who also lets you cry.”
for the one who also lets you cry.”
