We Have Been Men (For Juan, And For Me!) Poem by Eric Cockrell

we learn...
somewhere in chapters
written in dust, ...
with temples turned grey,
and tired sunset eyes.
leaving tiny fragments of heart,
spread in the darkness...
to become fireflies for the poor.
with bent backs testifying,
and well worn boots.
love turned to echoes,
drawing blood from the veins.
simple hands working silently,
weaving on the master loom.
leaving only the scent of our passing,
for strangers to comb.
having lived and given,
and nothing more asked.
we turn with gratitude to the door,
and tip our hats to the night!
we have been men,
and now we are more!