My Boy

This poem was written as a Bar Mitzvah present to my brother, Marty. I was a young college student, home for his Bar Mitzvah and didn't have a present to give. I sat for hours thinking about wanting to dedicate a poem just for him. The hour was late and I needed to go to bed, but showered first. The inspiration came while in the shower, where upon I went downstairs and spent a couple of hours composing it.

The next day, at the luncheon held in our backyard, I asked for quiet and read it aloud. For several years, other than mine, only two copies of the poem existed. My great-aunt had requested a copy, since Marty was named after her son, Martin Roher, whom had passed in 1955 of a illness expected to kill him within six weeks. A journal of his final 10 years were published in 1959 in "Days of Living".