School of Life.

Christmas again and the usual minefield

Of family drama, excess of gifts

Masking lack of understanding

That we have traveled 4000km

With minimal baggage and don't need

To lug 30kg of crap back to Darwin.

Stuff is no compensation for distance

Yet empathy goes a very long way.

Still, no teaching old dogs

With three legs new tricks

Unless one of those tricks is how to be a tripod.

Every year I feel less engaged, less involved

Like something in me is dying slowly.

I am witness to my own demise,

Until I feel the touch of my daughters hand in mine

And know this is not about me.

Having a child is a profound

Lifelong lesson in sacrifice.

It is a not a lesson I ever felt

I needed or wanted to learn but here I am,

Sitting at my wooden desk, writing lines,

Watching the clock, avoiding the teacher's gaze,

Waiting out detention in the school of life.

© shaun patrick green 2017