ManicDDaily

I’ve posted this poem before, and it doesn’t really go with the picture above, but Father’s Day is almost over, and I would really like to commemorate both it (and my wonderful father), so here goes:

My Father (baby birds)

My father’s voice
when he sang
was deep and cragged and
reminded me of a froggie
gone a’courting.
But this was baby birds.

It was not even a person
who had died.
It was not even a particularly noble dog,
though like all of its species, it was capable
of a self-debasing attachment that could
seem Arthurian.

But after the accident, the rush,
the sad blur home,
my father’s back faced me in my room
with a sound
of birds.
It silenced all gone wrong,
turned me back into a person
who could do things in the world.

(All rights reserved.)

This entry was posted on June 19, 2011 at 11:04 pm and is filed under parenting, poetry, Uncategorized. You can subscribe via RSS 2.0 feed to this post's comments.

Tags: father poem, Father's Day, Karin Gustafson, manicddaily, photograph of bird's nest, poem about father and loss of dog, poem about recovering from sadness, poetry