Untitled New Poem

A young man sitting quietly,

sorting through his memories

Everything, from the straight forward,

to the fragmented & the strange

Some are very old,

some still fresh as a new spring

He doesn’t dwell long, on the things

that he can’t change,

just takes what he can from them,

the lessons that they bring

uses them as he starts a new day,

with fresh opportunity

By:J.N.R Dutton

Helping My Old Man

I remember as a young kid painting houses some days

& sanding down wood while the hot sun would blaze

I even remember laying tile, got the glue on my hands

I was just thrilled to be helping out my old man

By:J.N.R Dutton

Inspired by memories of doing light assistant work on my father’s rental properties as a kid.

It proved to me that even w/my physical ailment, I could still be productive, which I think was the point, but more than that I liked just the time w/him.

The Bullet

John wore a spent silver bullet

suspended on a chain around his neck

His grandpa once gave it to him,

said “boy treat this w/respect”

Then the old man shared the story of

exactly how he’d come to possess it

He said he got it from a friend,a fellow soldier,

back during The Great War

and though he made it back,

His friend wasn’t around anymore

By: J.N.R Dutton