I miss my Da
the music man
band director
daughter protector
I miss his grin —
the click, click
sound of his Zippo
tapping out his pipe
oh! sweet cherry tobacco
aroma to cry for
his leather works
belts all sizes
moccasins
bookmarks.
I miss my Da
when lightning strikes
the vision of him
walking out there
just to dare
nature take him
knowing it can.
Short, but oh so sweet. Those artifacts that rebut so much of your father. Beautifully portrayed the image and also, your words.
The pipe reminded me of my grandfather. My father was a smoker for 20 years, but at 37 stopped in the middle of a pack in the middle of a carton and went cold turkey. He never attempted lightning to strike but I did see him get knocked to the floor trying to fix a power plug one day. ;-)
About my fellow college teachers it became gauche to wear a beard and smoke a pipe. I did neither. The cherry tobacco was certainly enticing to smell but the aftertaste was not.
Ah, I can smell the tobacco from here Diana, he must have been a great great man. He produced a daughter with limitless potential, I love your poetry, take care, may your heart smile today :)
Dear readers, this is my third book of poems, and inside are a special collection of what have turned out to be not only MY personal favorites, but also the favorites of many of YOU. Some of these have never been available in print before...
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The pipe reminded me of my grandfather. My father was a smoker for 20 years, but at 37 stopped in the middle of a pack in the middle of a carton and went cold turkey. He never attempted lightning to strike but I did see him get knocked to the floor trying to fix a power plug one day. ;-)
About my fellow college teachers it became gauche to wear a beard and smoke a pipe. I did neither. The cherry tobacco was certainly enticing to smell but the aftertaste was not.
Ron