My name is Ezra Standish
A small boy
stood, staring into the silver mirror
A woman with
a gentle hand removed the tear tracks
He turned to
her, reached for comfort
"Only trust
yourself, son, not me, not anyone else, ever."
He blinked
uncertainly, paused and was rewarded
With a brief
smile and a rare, "Thats my boy!"
He swore to
never forget his new name.
My name is Ezra Standish
A young boy
huddled in a dark alley
His arms wrapped
around his painful ribs
His ragged clothing
hung loose, waving in the wind
Bitter pain,
rage, and fear shone from his eyes
But he never
spoke a word or cried out
Not when his
tormentors were chased away
Nor when his
mother rescued him from his new friends
But his soul
whispered his name.
My name is Ezra Standish
The teen recited
the words in his head
Holding onto
them fiercely as he was left yet again
Another unwilling
relative accepting the burden
While his mother
went off to earn her fortune
He was forced
to conform to their beliefs
So he hid his
cards and bit his tongue
But never broke
or forgot who he was.
My name is Ezra Standish
The young man
signed the papers grimly
Joining a war
he did not believe in out of duty
He had read
and studied enough to know better
He survived
battles and routs, famine and plenty
He was captured,
imprisoned, and sentenced to hang
But a fever
struck hard, he escaped and went home
Only to find
all he had left was his name.
My name is Ezra Standish
The smooth gambler
introduced himself
He flashed the
gold tooth earned in battle
As he prepared
to defend himself against bad odds
Only to be met
with grudging acceptance
Slowly, tenuously
he settled on the edge of the group
Accepting blows,
and taunts, and overtures of friendship
While earning
a new title to go with his name.
I am Ezra Standish
I am Maudes
son.
I am an orphan.
I am a con artist.
I am a scholar.
I am a soldier.
I am a widower.
I am a gambler.
I am a
lawman. |