The Loser- Part II
He expected Ron to say something back,
but the man just turned and spoke to his wife,
Pat growled at this, but said nothing more,
let Ron be punished living such a life.
If he couldn’t see that he had brought shame,
if his way of thinking was just that dense,
then nothing Pat said would ever help life,
let him be one more lost cause amongst men.
* * *
Ron shut the trunk in front of his small house,
he gave a sigh, looked out upon the lake,
his kids got out and ran around the yard,
the drive was long, and they needed the break.
His wife saw a distant look on his face,
his eyes lost in the Adirondack peaks,
she came to him and said, “Are you still mad?”
He shook his head, and then began to speak:
“I stopped letting his words hurt long ago,
have accepted we have different values...
Pat craves status, and can see nothing else,
and to win…that’s his only point-of-view.
I see it too, the effect that it has,
he’s forty-two, but looks like he’s fifty,
his face is lined, his eyes so damn tired,
his kids were raised by I-phones more than he.
They barely spoke to him at the dinner,
only Jana once, to ask him for cash,
and I’ve heard word his wife is stepping out,
tell me, does money make up for all that?
To live in grids of concrete framed in steel,
and see no earth when you walk down the street,
closed in by folks, half of whom might rob you,
paying millions for a brownstone tiny?
All so he can brag he lives in ‘New York,’
as if location can improve your mind,
worn by the stress of paying for that place,
will that money buy him any more time?
Did he not see our father make the drive
to this small lake every other weekend?
Did he not hear dad call this God’s Country?
A place where he can feel human again?”
His wife just smiled, and squeezed his forearm.
“You two were made different, that is no sin.”
Said Ron, “I know…and it’s clear he won’t change,
but despite that all, I worry for him.
I fear he’s lost out not seeing the gain
in building some place of peace and beauty,
to know of no thrill but conquest and cash,
unable to have real serenity?
Can Pat ever reflect on the sublime?
Will he ever bask in real family?
He mocks my job running tours for people,
the fulfillment of it he’ll bever see.
The joy I get when some tourist looks on
the breadth of these mountains for the first time,
new love of nature and how it unfurls,
all because I do this ‘small’ job of mine...
CONCLUDES IN PART III.
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