Well, As My Dad Would Say, It

I Couldn't Help But Think, As I Watched Him, Of The Barrels Of Toxic Fluids That Had Accrued Behind Hal's Bike Shop Where The Scrub Lining The Railroad Tracks Had Offered Local Companies Enough Cover To Dump A Stray Contaner Or Two. Everything Had Been Sealed Up, But Things Were Beginning To Leak Out. I Had Come To Both Pity And Respect Len In The Years Since My Mother Left. He Followed The Physical To Try To Understand Things That Were Impossible To Comphrehend. In That, I Could See, He Was Like Me.

What I Think Was Hardest For Me To Realize Was That He Had Tried Each Time To Stop Himself. He Had Killed Animals, Taking Lesser Lives To Keep From Killing A Child

I Left My Mark On That Man.

But, He Also Said It Because Part Of Him Wanted More Of Her, This Cold Woman Who Was Not Exactly Cold, This Rock Who Was Not Stone.

Everyday He Got Up. Before Sleep Wore Off, He Was Who He Used To Be. Then, As His Consciousness Woke, It Was As If Poison Seeped In. At First He Couldn't Even Get Up. He Lay There Under A Heavy Weight. But Then Only Movment Could Save Him, And He Moved And He Moved And He Moved, No Movement Being Enough To Make Up For It. The Guilt On Him, The Hand Of God Pressing Down On Him, Saying, You Were Not There When Your Daughter Needed You.