Seventeen and the phone rings at midnight,

Oh dear, it’s just your dad they’ve had another fight.

Mom says, “Just go back to bed. You know how this goes.”

Awake I lay until the old rooster crows.

Off to school trying to clear my head,

I lay donating blood on a hard fold out bed.

Rushing through the door mom’s ghost white

A gun has gone off, not just another fight.

We rush to his house no ambulance in site,

Terrified I am, as he’s been taken in flight.

Many surgeries and hospital visits will follow,

Thankful for the man above, dad will still be here tomorrow.

-Kendall Powell