Saturday, July 8, 2017

Something Greater by Jason Fisk

The sun embraces the evening
Its shadows angle across the burb
Rain clings to the sidewalk’s pores
The storm is still troubling the air
Red wine and teriyaki salmon
fill my belly and on the way home
I crank the music of my youth
Magically, I am sixteen again – invincible
Car soaring down the highway
between two truck trailers
on my way home from school
Wanting to smash into them
just to hear the crinkle of
of the car metal 
Just to be humbled
by the blunt impact
of something greater than me

But now I have kids
in bed at home
and wonder
how I got
from wanting
to smash my car
to being their father

Something greater
than me

Jason Fisk is a husband to one, a father to three, and a teacher to many. He lives and writes in the suburbs of Chicago. His long list of employment before becoming a teacher includes working in a psychiatric unit, laboring in a kitchen cabinet making factory, and mixing cement for a bricklayer.

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