Our sons'
spongy spines, flanked by
tiny scapula and little sinewy
blossoms,
promise manhood.
They stand straighter,
shoulders grow wider, when speaking
of you. You are the
pride that inflates
their chests.
They see your face in
freshly plowed roadside
snow. Hear your name in
the Cadence of my
swift steps, as
I hunt down
my strength.
Your shadow suggests
a gait. Their backs will
grow tall; thick
spines reaching
great heights, because
Where ever they may
go, they will chose
to walk like you.
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