i.

in a restaurant
with my family

i remember being young
and pitying a man
who held his fork
in his hand

like a shovel
to his mouth
like a shovel
to the stone

white collar
on the outside
but blue collar
deeply sewn

ii.

i remember being young
and in love with a man
who held his fork
in his hand

like a shovel 
to his mouth
like a boy
who grew homegrown

white collar 
on the outside
but blue collar
deeply sewn

iii.

today i watched
my father
pick a fork up 
with his hand

like a shovel
to his mouth
from the plate
and back again

all my life
it seems
the greatest men
i’ve known

are white collar
on the outside
but blue collar
deeply sewn