His nicked knuckles
against the olive green
of the army shovel
matched the determination
in his lips and brow
as he dug a hole
in the sandy forest soil
to make an oven
for peppers, potatoes and carrots
that became a fiesta in my mouth
and a smile on my face.

He scouted manhood
and introduced it to me.

and now…

he climbs the craggy cliffs
hikes the pained desert
leaps beyond the waiting
to prepare the trail
for me as I too approach
the aging path
barely visible in the thicket
that lies ahead.

Author's Note: Dedicated to my brother who is recovering from his recent surgery.