For My Son Josh and His Best Friend David turning thirteen
By Doug Rawlings
If ‘namvets were ancient shamans
now would be the moment
we’d choose
to give you shelter
from the coming storm
But we are merely
survivors of suburbs and cities
not forest nor mountain
Modern men
offering you our silences
our words
to guide you going out on your own
Yet we have known for years now
that the silences of our fathers will not do
And we have known that words alone
cannot bleed you free
of your raging doubts
So listen up
to what we have found
between silences and words:
Open up your fists
Watch women move
Scorn uniforms
Don’t march
Dance
