Poets’ Corner: Rosemerry For Father’s Day

“When I was a boy of fourteen, my father was so ignorant I could hardly stand to have the old man around. But when I got to be twenty-one, I was astonished at how much he had learned in seven years,” Mark Twain

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As day follows night, the older you get, the smarter your father seems to grow, right?  But what if the sun does not come up in the morning. What if your progeny is in deep trouble and acting out?

Take solace on this Father’s Day in these words written by Rosemerry Trommer to comfort a troubled dad and friend.

 

Rosemerry Trommer

Rosemerry Trommer

Letter to D

It was not easy, the drive over

Dallas Divide this morning.

 

Last night’s snow and rain had left

a smear of snow and slush across the road,

 

though as it melted, I noticed how

the blue and white were mirrored

 

on the ice. Sky above and sky below.

It was equal parts lovely and treacherous then,

 

but this is not why I am writing.

It’s just a prelude to tell you how

 

I am thinking of the story you told

of your son. How he stole from you,

 

the shattered glass, how ugly it’s become.

There are days we wish would never arrive,

 

if we even could call it wishing.

Perhaps it is more an ignorance, or a shoving

 

future sorrow away. Rather to believe

that good will happen. That the boy,

 

grown man, will come beside us,

chop and haul and stack the wood.

 

That we might sit at a feast together

and laugh and share the food and wine

 

and bread of our daily love. We try,

don’t we, to give our children everything.

 

How it splits us when the story’s

ending is not happily ever. But we are not

 

at after yet, though the days are getting shorter.

I don’t know, friend, what I’m trying to say.

 

That I hear you. That sometimes we can find blue sky

in the most surprising places.

 

That I wish I could help you pick up

the shards. That it’s hard to be a father.

 

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