he’s a silent man who moved across the yard when he got married, who spends winters hunting for antlers and summers skipping rocks across the creek in his land.

he is a farming man who talks tractor and crop, a meticulous man who pulls dandelions from lawn and harrows perfect garden rows.

and he cries, when his cows die,

and he sings to his grand-babies, the four little boys who crawl across opa and eat oranges from his palm and give him kisses. and

i used to be afraid of him. not knowing what to say, not knowing what he thought of this girl with the piercings who wed his son but then i heard him scratchy-sing, “i’m so in love with you,” to the one-year-old in his lap and

i heard the quiet creator

singing love songs in secret

to those who would listen

the LORD your God is with you, the Mighty Warrior who saves. he will take great delight in you; in his love he will no longer rebuke you, but will rejoice over you with singing. (zephaniah 3:17)

(shared with one shot poetry)