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 Contemporary poetry by Dan Donlan


UNCLE RAY WAS MY GODFATHER
 
His growing up was much like my own.
Both Mom and Ray were abandoned as children.
By their parents
I heard Grandma was married many times
Who split and did not want the children
Ray was sent to Boystown.
I never met my Grandfather on Mom's side
Survivor of the fittiest. Mom was orphaned.
From family to family and once living in Salt Lake City
with the Mormon Church. Times were tough. I can't
answer for Grandma why she abandoned her own children.
Much later she raised me. Mom never forgave her mother
But dearly loved my Step Grandad. What I heard was Grandpa
when he heard Grandma had orphaned her children was livid
He had no children of his own and he took Sis and I on as
his own. Mom's life was a horror story but for Grandpa, and
her brother Ray. Old enough to be on his own he came and
got Mom until she too was of age. I was special to him.
We shared love of football and love of the flag
I would grow up one of the few the proud
Only I could not see had one ear and irregular heartbeat
I have better hearing and vision today than as a child
On New Years Grandpa and I watched the games.
We salute every flag that went by
I envied other kids on Christmas
Santa Clause did not come to my house I guess because we
had no chiminey. Uncle Rays present was alway saved for last
to open. Always it was something we probably should not have
had. Bee Bee guns, folding knives, fishing poles, and Mom
rolled her eyes at the dangerous things for me to play with.
The biggest and the best was the hunting Bow and Arrow
set he used for hunting deer.

Uncle Ray sent it
Kinda special
It started when I was young
A play bow and arrow
A switchblade comb
But this year the bow was real
Arrow that would bring down a deer
My StepDad was livid
"I don't care if he is sixteen
That bow is not a plaything"
I was so proud of my bow
Made on the reservation by real Indians
All the neighbor boys were envious
We took it out and shot arrows in the sky
Dived on the ground looking up
Whoever the arrow landed closest to
would be next to be the bow shooter
Stepdad came running across the field
Grabbed the arrows and broke them across his knee
I was fifty the next time I saw my bow
He came from the attic of his garage
"I guess you are old enough to handle this bow now!"







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