Two Poems for my Father

It’s Father’s Day, and Daddy is on my mind. I was fortunate to grow up in the country, and I spent much of my childhood roaming the woods and fields of southern Delaware alone with my dog, and later, on my horse (with my dog). It gave me the confidence to know I could face whatever comes, and navigate my way through it, and it instilled in me a deep and abiding love of and appreciation for the natural world. I have been well served by both, and Daddy was a big part of all that. He loved it too, and he made sure that my mother and aunts (who lived with us) didn’t over-protect me. “She’ll be okay,” he’d say, as they stood wringing their hands in worry about whatever I was about to do next. And I always was.

My father’s blood runs in my veins. I feel it every day — and especially today. Thanks, Daddy. Here’s two for you …


of childhood days in
bleak November
crunching through the woods
behind my father

he with gun across his shoulder
hunting jacket
bright orange cap
and rubber boots that took
such strong sure steps

I with painful noisiness

he’d let me throw the corn
onto the woodland marsh
to make the ducks come there
he’d come back tomorrow
for the kill

he never shot a duck
or anything
with me around

compassion hung around him then
like persistent deerflies
. . .

me and D

me and Daddy
sharing secrets
dogs on sofas
(telltale hairs)
ice cream dinners
risks taken and survived

me and Daddy at the center
of the spiral that became
my life

(resembling a rose)


2 Responses

  1. Alone……except for the pesky tag along from down the street!!! Loved the picture of your dad. Brought back wonderful memories for me too.

  2. We were blessed to grow up as we did … wild in the country. 🙂

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