a rose
“i don’t drink”
he said
and ordered a diet coke
“anymore?”
i asked
“ever”
he said
“my three brothers are dead from it
next to my father”
“i never understood
how one person
in a big family
can come out unscathed”
“some call it luck”
he said
“and it might be
but
my father didn’t know
any better
and my brothers
never let their resentment
towards go”
“and you did”
i asked
and ordered another beer
“eventually
but it took a long time
i was smart
and wanted to get my mother
out of the bad area
so i knew alcohol
would hinder that goal”
“did you succeed”
i asked
“yes”
he ordered a bar pie
“so you were the rose
that grew from the concrete”
i said
“not the rose
a rose”
he said
“wherever there is light
the flowers will find it”
and like
a weed
i ordered another beer