His Name

I heard his name throughout my youth – this thing his mom would say:

Charles awoke at dawn to take his tests, and he aced them every day.

I remember one phrase he himself did say: “Windom is a good place to be from”.

The name Charles is French and means this: “manly one, a man”,

yet he was tender to the touch of life, for Charles did understand.

After I officiated the funeral for his mom, he sent his thanks in wood –

a carved wood road runner, crafted well. I cherish it, as I should.

He reminds me of the dual drill – first, the basic training mind,

and then the dentist he ultimately became, of the military kind.

Oh how proud of him you’ll always be, and he’ll never truly depart,

for his name and life are carved within the chambers of your heart.