his emotion, the matter of which
had long been permeated too deep below
under a bedrock blanketing of masculinity
he had carried deep below himself
from youth

he didn't shed a single tear
when they buried his father
early this same year

it was in this emotion
he had held at arms length
where he didn't see himself in how
he felt
but in the product of a reserved character

his generation had worn no cross
rest laurels on the working man
he saw his peers as no great loss

in seldom shedding a tear
he saved face, in some amount
of personal self restoration
and

*it was only in his love had seen
some inkling of inner working
in his longing perchance to dream