You raise the boy in privilege

You raise him in privilege 

advantages galore:

private school 

forgiveness respect 

love and more

rains down 

from heaven:

the star athlete

star artist too

talent brains 

galore, 

even more--

it's almost unfair 

how much mana

smiles down on this 

one small life. 

And then a wind comes 

down and flips 

this life into a field 

and it all gives way 

like a fence blown 

down in the storm. 

How odd to hear him

rap on your window 

when the moon is low 

and see that face white  

and blank as snow, 

to see him bagging cans 

from the bins in the park

to see him thin as a reed

with eyes that spark  

like campfires in the dark;

that sun drenched boy   

of soccer fame sagging 

like some

abandoned 

house 

and the riddle 

of why 

and how 

will not let 

his father sleep 

one full night.