Grown Men

By Ryan Coghill

In one room, with soft lighting, a man
hunched over a woman.
Separated by a heavy door
four men stood down the hall,
palms jammed in their eyes.

I approached them stiffly.

I hugged my uncle.
Then, I turned left
and hugged my uncle.
After this, I moved forward,
and hugged my uncle.
Finally, my father fell into my arms
and we slowly slumped
to our begging knees.

The man walked out of the room
only to continue down the hall
without a
word.

Grown men cry
but my Grandfather does so
alone.