Vox Populi

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Laura McCullough: Hero With Only One Face 

He tells me in his diminishing days, death not yet active,
but clearly begun, about his siblings, family shufflings,
foster homes, the orphanage. Who said they would

but then could not, who promised this & forgot that,
who turned away for reasons good or not, his siblings
lost to him & lost again. Lies held belying ties, whose

blood, who’s not, not mattering at all. My tears as he
tells his stories—again—invisible to him who swears
his childhood was great, that he was a hero to all, made

promises & kept them when others failed, how now
with his walker, he still can raise a fist, claim he is a hero
not going gladly & must prove in some way even now

that he is the hero in a story that held such pain the way
to not be engulfed by it was to create a new one to layer
over the reality, a great skill, what helped him survive,

but now, as an elder has left him largely unwise to his own
greatness, stuck in an adolescent dream of conquering
& tests & trials to be overcome, the hero welcomed

gladly & with fanfare—all hail the returning son!--
turning even more deeply into this & away from
the journey into mystery, one that can’t be overcome.

Copyright 2023 Laura McCullough

Laura McCullough’s books include Women and Other Hostages (Black Lawrence 2021). A three time NJ State Arts Council Fellow, she is a full professor at Brookdale Community College. 

5 comments on “Laura McCullough: Hero With Only One Face 

  1. JaneMcVeigh-Schultz
    February 8, 2023

    Oh, the ache to matter to the people in our lives. And the sorrow that we might not.

    Like

    • Vox Populi
      February 8, 2023

      Thanks Jane. I love Laura’s poem for the reasons you say.

      Like

  2. Loranneke
    January 30, 2023

    “he is the hero in a story that held such pain the way
    to not be engulfed by it was to create a new one to layer
    over the reality, a great skill, what helped him survive,” so moving…

    Liked by 1 person

  3. kim4true
    January 30, 2023

    Lives seem so short when you look at them in hindsight. And that ever-present need of the man to prove himself good enough breaks my heart.

    Liked by 1 person

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This entry was posted on January 30, 2023 by in Poetry and tagged , , , , , , .

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