Newborn of my imagination
Emissary to different world,
With patted head and consternation;
Coiffed hair unruly, kinked and curled.
Beneath pungent haze of stranger sun
Dried by distant winds and culture,
It bore less as handsome falcon
Than resembled feeding vulture.
Yet still it carried in its talon
stout message of my love of craft,
and pride swelled in parental chest
at prejudice it would endure.
Such wasted effort spent on dressing
this sickly tot to blend. Let’s peck
at fevered flesh beneath stained collar:
draw blood from clearly scrawny neck.
It hammered at my solar plexus:
Reality. I took it hard.
Beauty fades as it grows distant
From loving father’s fond regard.