A Few Thoughts
By C. M. Frederick

What is a man?

Perhaps a brother, a husband, a father.
Always a son.

He is a place as much as a person.
He is the home.

He is precious in that he
need not have been born at all, yet was.

Above all he is a life.
And as a life he must pass from our world.

This life was his gift to all of us,
so may we remember it well.


Dedication: I wrote this poem as a tribute to my father who passed away from cancer in the month of September, 2000. It was also written to console my father's mother who had lost both of her sons in less than a year. The minister presiding at my father's funeral read these words in memoriam of Michael R. Frederick.


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