Poetry by Randal A. Burd, Jr.
I watched him slowly growing old and frail
But still he passed before I was prepared—
A dreadful fight in which few men prevail
Approached with peace where others have despaired.
I often try in vain to recollect
The many times he spoke my name with pride,
Occasionally pausing to reflect
On memories less stark than when he died.
Now when I stare into a looking glass,
I see his features blended in my own
And shed a tear despite the years that pass—
A kinder, wiser man I’ve never known.
I only hope when someone measures me,
I’m half the man he showed me how to be.
About the Poet
Randal A. Burd, Jr. is a married father of two and an educator working on the site of a residential treatment facility for juveniles in rural Missouri. He has a Master’s Degree in English Curriculum & Instruction from the University of Missouri and a self-sabotaging compulsion to write poetry that rhymes. Randal’s poems have recently been featured by Rue Scribe, The Society of Classical Poets, and Verse-Virtual among other publications.