Uncle Joe

He was a tall man and his suspender hung loose on one side

Weaving side to side as he sawed the wood

The dust fell like snow in a pile at his feet

And he smiled down at me, a child of four

He never knew, or did he?

That I captured his smile in that moment

And carried it with me through life

A treasure whose power I would draw upon

When I faced the world alone

Published by Crystal Diane Arbogast

Writer, Author

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