I went to visit my grandmother tonight and took her out for dinner. When I went to leave, she handed me an envelope full of illustrations that I drew as a very young child. Also in the envelope were newspaper clippings of various childhood achievements, some photos, and a poem. A poem written by my late father. I never knew my dad was into poetry, or writing. He was always a very 'rough and tumble' kind of guy, and while he was extremely intelligent, it comes as a great surprise to find that he actually used to write some stuff. The following is a poem, written by Jeff Tjaden, sometime in his teenage years. There was no date on it, and it was just a piece of notebook paper with the title and his name in the upper right hand corner. I can only assume it was a school assignment that my grandmother held on to. I was actually quite surprised with how neat and well written his cursive handwriting was. But yeah, here is the poem:
The Grizzly
Looking, but never seeing
It is late day, or early evening
Knowing, but yet still wondering
Hoping, but not really wanting
It's getting later, but still I'm waiting
At last it appears, when the moon is dawning
Beautiful, yet stark and terrifying
The Great Beast is lurking
Closer and closer it draws, and yet still perching
The entire forest is awakening
At last the chase is starting
It was a quiet fight, done with no meaning
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