His Name was Doug

and I knew 
he loved me.
Bigger than life,
a man’s man,
and so at home 
in his skin.
His legs bowed
just a little,
so he had
a sexy swagger
when he walked.
Ornery as cat dirt
mostly, his
non-filtered Camels
tucked in a pocket, 
or rolled up
in the sleeve 
of a T-shirt,
tanned elbow
out the side window
of a titty-pink & white 
‘57 Chevy
cruising with me, 
and I knew 
he loved me.
He could cuss 
and fight
with the best, 
a man’s man
so at home 
in his skin,
enough so 
to be gentle 
with me
running his fingers 
through my hair
as I sat on the floor
between those 
bowed legs
watching TV together,
and I knew 
he loved me.
Then Uncle Sam 
asked for his help
in Vietnam.
He needed medics. 
Pre-med at college,
he never thought 
to question.
The town sheriff 
was Dad and
Dad taught him
that a man 
does what’s right.
His name was Doug
and he was bigger 
than life,
a man’s man, 
easy in his skin,
ornery yet gentle,
and I knew 
even my name 
was safe 
in his mouth
because 
he loved me.
Oh God,
how I loved 
him, too ...


[by CJ Kempf Heck] 


“I am only one, but I am one. I can't do everything, but I can do something. The something I ought to do, I can do. And by the grace of God, I will.” ~Everett Hale