A Young Boy's Fear
an introduction to poetry
I began my journey as a writer while still in the United States Marine Corps. I had been working on a bachelor's degree at Southern New Hampshire University and took a creative writing class. I had always been a storyteller, but it took this course to see that I could take my passions for storytelling and a growing joy from writing and have a rewarding career after my uniformed service had ended.
The course had three major writing assignments: poetry, non-fiction/memoir, and a short story. I dreaded the poetry assignment; it just wasn't my thing. I completed all three assignments and held on to them, however, and quite ironically, it's been the poetry submission that I've come back to a few times to revise.
As I got closer to retirement, I started looking at transition programs and one of them which I was most interested in required an associate degree, so I called my advisor and asked how close I was to earning that.
"You're basically there, Aaron. You've got a ton of credits from the Corps. I'll change your degree plan, run an audit, and I think that by the time you finish the class you're in, you'll be able to apply for graduation." I received my associates from Southern New Hampshire University in January, approximately 3 months after that conversation.
I've since retired; obtained my residential mortgage loan originators license in Texas, Virginia, and Washington, and resigned; and relocated back to Texas for my wife's job. I enrolled in St. Mary's University last year and began major course work in English Communications.
If you guessed that I'm reading a ton of literature, then you'd be correct. If you guessed that a lot of that includes poetry, then you'd be doubly correct. Over the past few weeks, my introductory course to the critical study of literature has introduced me to a lot of poetry and made me think about this piece again.
I thought I would share a poem that I wrote, and subsequently revised, about my grandfather, Danny Hargraves, and me. Please enjoy.
“A Young Boy’s Fear”
by Aaron Courts, 2023
Fear and dirt and blood—
Each were sharp tastes on his tongue.
With eyes closed tight he thought of the long walk there—
Never considering the longer walk back when done.
“Why me,” was the question never asked of the old man.
The young boy was scared of the mare, but what’s more,
He was scared of failing, like any young boy is—
Scared of failing an old man who calls him, son.
The old man needed the injured mare fetched, and quickly, and for that he charged the young boy.
The old man whispered, barely a whisper, and the young boy’s hair raised, close as he was.
“If you’re afraid, son, don’t be. Listen, she’s the one nervous and undone—
Let her smell any fear, son, and it’s over. She’ll smell your fear and run.”
“Yes sir” slipped passed a chipped front tooth, but inside he began to pray.
Not really a voice, but his own whisper—
Given to the old man, though not what he wanted to say.
And to the Lord, he continued in silence, to pray and to pray and to pray.
Rope in hand, he was sent, in a straight line towards her—
Feeling smaller and smaller as he trod.
Every step of the way, so much smaller, so much farther—
Wanting to look back, he resisted more than once.
With one hand hidden, one extended and shaking—
No scared steps remained.
The young boy was nose to nose at last, with a giant—
Wishing but for a few more scared steps to take.
His rope cinched. She must have smelled it.
The young boy was dragged through the rocks and the dirt.
Eyes closed, blood smeared, thoughts shifted—
To a fear much darker than lignite smoke.
Not of dirt, or of blood, or of dragging.
No stone-scourged flesh crossed his mind.
But of the long, lonely walk back, vexed, he considered—
Better to be trampled, he thought. Better to die.
Should he fail to return having fetched the injured mare—
He’d return welcomed, bloodied and beaten, but alive.
And yet, the greatest fear of returning empty handed—
Would be of returning empty handed, having failed the old man— yet alive.
This was originally published as an article on my LinkedIn page on February 10, 2023. I hope you did, in fact, enjoy it. As always, your thoughts and comments are most welcome.
Semper Fidelis,
Aaron Courts