Poor Old David

Words I’ve heard my whole life Poor old David, poor old Michael, poor old daddy If you’re from the heart of Appalachia, these are… Words that mean the person is down on their luck, Lost in the faded breathe of shadows, dimmed By the hasty edges of a darkness built from sickness, Depression and doubt, the disillusionment Detailed in throw away images that never last Because after the last breathe, the picture that remains Inside the heart is a picture perfect moment When there was sunshine and laughter, a beautiful So stunning it cries out to the hopefulness Promising grief it will, in time, find relief in the memories The times when poor old David held his newborn, Sucked on slices of watermelon as he watched his granddaughter Race across the sunset on a pony we called Molly, Or felt the assurance of a dream realized by the deer He’d just watched pass from this life into his awaiting freezer Yet, he remains Poor Old David until the moment of darkness Has passed from tragedy to trembling truth, intimate As the focus on the lens that remembers to reflect the wonderful Despite the regrets that test the limits of yesterday’s feelings Poor old David will forever be invincible to the ones Who treasure his amazingly rich and beautifully young Memories… in those, he is the source of the heartfelt tenderness!