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My Books
- ADOPTED
- A Big Scare Turns Out Tiny
- Am I Depressed?
- An Illiterate Confession
- A Quirky Christmas
- COLOR BLIND FRIENDS
- Daddy Goes On A Trip
- DADDY IS GONE
- Destiny The Girl Who Loved Rocks
- Destiny The Girl Who Loved Dragons
- Destiny" Dragon The Purple Knight
- DOES JOHNNY HAVE AUTISM?
- El ojo morado de Mama
- Goodbye Dad, A Military Funeral
- Goodbye Dad, The Funeral
- Great Nanny Doesn't Remember Me
- GROWING OLD: AGING EXPLAINED
- Hardy Belch And The Bully
- Hardy Belch And The Gold Train
- Hardy Belch And The Green Man
- Hardy Belch and The Predator
- Hardy Belch and Tiny Return
- I LIKE TO WHINE
- Jack's Diabetes
- Joey’s Psoriasis
- Kiku's Quest
- Lisa Gets A Dog
- MOM and DAD are SPLITTING
- Mommy's Black Eye
- My Dad the Policeman
- My Mom the Police Officer
- The Adventures of Hardy Belch
- The Boy Who Loved Sharks
- Short or Tall, Doesn’t Matter At All
- The Christmas Knot
- The Wicked Good Stepmother
- Two Dads, Two Moms, Two Kids
- WHAT ABOUT ME?
- MY BLOGS
- REVIEWERS CORNER
- Contact Form
- Book Related Gift Ideas
- Essays On Life
- Favorite Links
- About The Author
- News & Free Stuff
- Photo Gallery
- Hard Drive Issues?
- The Art Work of George Martin Bentrim
- Bearly Tolerable Publishing's Author Services
- Bearly Tolerable Publishing's Book Releases
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- Terrific Illustrator
_Who Knows In the Dark?
_ Sometimes deep in the night, I wake, I wonder, am I the
child or the adult?
Am I the father, the son or the grandson?
Who am I?
What age lies upon my shoulders?
What responsibility blankets me?
What relationships entangle and caress me?
Do I answer to Billy, Bill, William, Dad, PopPop or husband?
In the dark, why can’t I tell who I am?
Is my life a dream?
Is my dream my life?
Is the wet spot on the bed the unrequited lust for life or the onset of puberty or the semi-senile drooling of the aged?
Is the ache in the arm the result of pounding down shots, shooting too many hoops or the onset of arthritis?
Is the quiet breathing next to me the sound of my love, the sigh of my child or the adolescent wheezing of my brother in childhood?
In the dark, how can you tell who you are?
Need I roll over to sleep so I am rested for work or lie awake contemplating what work lies ahead?
Is my life at the beginning or at the end or somewhere in the ill defined middle?
Is the noise in the night my parents coming home, my child awakening to be fed or my own phlegm ridden cough?
Who can tell in the dark?
The softness of night can be a reprieve from a trying day, the easing of sore muscles and tired bones, the recollection of past success or failures or a tiny little death each and every occurrence.
If I drag my self to full consciousness’ will I lie curled in my boyhood bed, my frat house single or my wedding king, where will I find me?
Who knows in the dark?
As I lay in that valley between sleep and awake, I know my life has encompassed good, bad and ugly but I know with certainty that I love, am loved and will continue to love my life, my wife, my family.
Even if it is dark, my night is never lonely.
Who knows in the dark?
I do!
Am I the father, the son or the grandson?
Who am I?
What age lies upon my shoulders?
What responsibility blankets me?
What relationships entangle and caress me?
Do I answer to Billy, Bill, William, Dad, PopPop or husband?
In the dark, why can’t I tell who I am?
Is my life a dream?
Is my dream my life?
Is the wet spot on the bed the unrequited lust for life or the onset of puberty or the semi-senile drooling of the aged?
Is the ache in the arm the result of pounding down shots, shooting too many hoops or the onset of arthritis?
Is the quiet breathing next to me the sound of my love, the sigh of my child or the adolescent wheezing of my brother in childhood?
In the dark, how can you tell who you are?
Need I roll over to sleep so I am rested for work or lie awake contemplating what work lies ahead?
Is my life at the beginning or at the end or somewhere in the ill defined middle?
Is the noise in the night my parents coming home, my child awakening to be fed or my own phlegm ridden cough?
Who can tell in the dark?
The softness of night can be a reprieve from a trying day, the easing of sore muscles and tired bones, the recollection of past success or failures or a tiny little death each and every occurrence.
If I drag my self to full consciousness’ will I lie curled in my boyhood bed, my frat house single or my wedding king, where will I find me?
Who knows in the dark?
As I lay in that valley between sleep and awake, I know my life has encompassed good, bad and ugly but I know with certainty that I love, am loved and will continue to love my life, my wife, my family.
Even if it is dark, my night is never lonely.
Who knows in the dark?
I do!