In memory of Clayton McDonald

I’ve a wish to meet this Superman

with arms that bear such steel,

but the trouble is my Superman

is fighting hard to heal.

I’ve a wish to meet this Superman

they said is made of lead,

but the trouble is my hero

is confined to hospice bed.

He bounces back with vigor,

after downing hefty pills

made of mashed-up kryptonite,

the power in him stills.

He’s needing iron badly

and not flying into beams

to uphold his inner arches

that have sheltered broken dreams.

Being strong despite the odds

of needing iron soon,

and not looking like Clark Gable

when he flies into the moon.

I’ve a wish to meet this Superman,

that’s not like what you see,

but bears the weight of everyman,

the weight of you and me.

__________________________________________

I’ve a wish to meet Superman, the only trouble is

he’s in a hospital too

and I doubt he wishes to see himself

or even knows how strong he is,

considering the circumstances

of needing iron and not flying to it.

With the strength of a thousand oxen,

he swallows kryptonite

and fades for awhile,

only to bounce back better than ever

until the next time.

But the doctor says there will be no next time

and Superman’s ok with that

because he knows he’s going home to see his Father

who he thanks for having giving him life

and the ability

to have been strong

considering the circumstances

of needing iron and not flying to it.

-Amy Struthers