A man’s pain

A man’s pain

I measure pain
because it counts.

Men crawl to me
on broken knees,
withhold tears
that worry brows.

I can’t fix them
though I honor their wounds
and words—
girders, cranes, splitters.

For them, I hold
the image of a pine plank
carousing out of control
smashing against a breastbone.

I compare my pain
with theirs. Is his worse?
Does mine count?

When you finally crawl in
to tell me about your pain
you will break down.

This entry was posted in Uncategorized. Bookmark the permalink.

1 Response to A man’s pain

  1. mark says:

    The unconditional tone hear rings true, thanks for the loving insight.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s