Charlie

Lewis Hine, 1909

Now that I have decided to publish my "senior farewell" poems here, I suppose I will share last year's; kind of work backward. I will take a break after this one -- too many of these in a row could get tedious, I suppose.

One day, some time during 2013, I heard an old man ask his grandchild what he wanted to "be" when he grew up and it struck me how strange it is that we immediately think of jobs when we ask and are asked that question -- as if our jobs are our personal identity -- what we are. Why don't we ask, "What do you want to do?"In a way, it is a kind of brainwashing, isn't it? Well, not if you have a grandfather like Charlie's...

Charlie

No one knew Grandfather was magical,

But Charlie knew.

No one knew Grandfather had a box with a secret, inside --

The way to be happy forever.

But Charlie knew.