As a Youth He Was Not Bright or Graceful

by Lucas Frantz

As a youth he was not bright or graceful,
Rather, he was halting—glumly certain
Others always had the right ideas:
Had the poise, the wit, the air, the presence—
Otherwise the self-resemblance chilled him.
His experience taught him not to touch or enter:
On his tongue thoughts powdered, kindness twisted.
Always his intrusion marred the moment.

Age did not dispel his inhibitions,
They but morphed and spread to fit the riper
Movements of his upward-questing nature.
God he knew to be his home and Father,
Life a tale of children badly grown up
In an ogre-tortured faery garden.
Still, he halted, seeing good and evil,
But uncertain what to what was working.

Ever, then, aloof, confused, indifferent,
He inspired no one, rather garnered pity.
Quietly he lived and not unhappy.
Harmlessly he lived and not unhopeful.
When his days had run their course he perished,
Ready to unfurl and flourish
In an unflawed world. And this is
After all what everyone’s awaiting.

Having grown up a book-lover in horse-and-buggy communities in four states, Lucas Frantz is determined that his experiences will provide material as well as incentive in a quest for imaginative apprehension of life and culture.

Photography by Kenneth Godoy

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