The Trinity

The Trinity 

A walk 

in the hour between

twilight and night,

as the light became just right

two silhouette shadows

with a 30 year difference in age

formed one profile

as they looked exactly the same.

The father had backed up more miles

than most drivers had driven forward,

while the son 

could hold his breath

and dive deeper into memory 

than most writers could dream,

and the ghost 

that tied them together

was a shared voice 

inside their head.

A will so thick 

that it limited visibility,

it’s hard to see 

the next step

when an ⅛ of a mile in front of you

is indistinguishably synonymous

with the rear view,

you see driving

isn’t all that different

from writing

because if

a man knows 

where he’s going

that makes all the difference,

but it’s a contrast to realize 

that there’s nothing quite like 

going out for a ride at night in a bobtail truck 

or with pen on a white blank page

that will send you

exactly the wrong way. 

Can two wrongs make a right

or is it 

a possibility

to explain away 

a mistake?

Take for example

that one day

when the boy

wanted to surprise his dad

and popped up to see 

an unexpected situation

that he didn’t know

even existed,

“Who’s in there Dad?”

It’s before entering the cocoon 

that the decision must be made,

it’s not that you can’t 

make the choice in the dark,

it’s just once you’re in there

it’s hard to see,

and that’s the thing about life 

if we haven’t 

learned to write

then we’re destined 

to act in 

the story that we already know.

After it was too late

and the sun had set,

the boy who had become a man 

got to say, 

“You always were my hero.”