sun/son

old man charlie white answered in an old man's voice
"i will not hear the tale of the things he has done"
and thus he pruned the tree and he cast off all former leaves
raked them into a pile and burned them

we all think we know better than the ones we've told
after we've ignored our own words
this i say to you "there was nothing you could do"
i have spoken, i do not think you heard

i will not see you fall again
i will not hear of the things you've done
and though my eyes go blind i have too much pride
to turn them from the heat of the sun of the sun

and thus he took the reins and bore the burden and the pain
and covered up all tracks made by his son
a steady look around and with his shovel cracked the ground
all the while an eye upon the gun