Father's day.

To the red maple

I planted when my father died; it's winter branches

of intersecting, dihendral lines

embrace like new lovers.

Thru this the sun rises

and I think, like the zest of lemons.

Yet truth be told, I was 24 before

I knew what zest was or

what it was for. Then mother used

it in a sentence, all the while

her Venus, her Mars

revolved around his wandering image

Going to Kato's for pool and beer.

Coming home from Kato's too damn drunk

for affection. Today

my sister,

unmarried and alone, tried to use it.

And yes, it tumbled off her lips

where delicious magnets of butter

and sugar sat

waiting.

Reviews

[Emily B]

happy father's day, dana. I should have come to visit. my sleep systems are all off track. somebody has to answer the phone between ten when all the sane people are sleeping safe in their beds. finally got a router whatever that is for so I will be able to visit more regularly than I have been

I hope the shooting in Detroit was nowhere near you

[h d e rushin]

thank you Ms. Emily for those kind words.....And no, the shooting was no where near but
always constant.....love you.....dana

[Emily B]

five people shot in Lexington over the weekend at one park . . . thankfully Richmond hasn't had those calls yet

[Terpsichore]

Because of the unique human gift of memory, it's always father's day for someone, somewhere in the world and I would have it no different, as sweet and sour as it is.

Perhaps I'll join you in a beer sometime and we can compare dads. :)) T

[W.k.kortas]

It did not escape notice that, after the second line, there are no more explicit mentions of your father in the poem for the day, but rather dances around the little bits of real life, the lemon zest and one or several beers too many. The whole thing is an arresting mix of subtlety and pwer.

[h d e rushin]

I love your words wk......dana

[Ed Hart]

dana, my dear friend, you carry the whole world around in your pocket...a few words here, a few words there, along your way scattering them like seeds, in this case, red maple

[h d e rushin]

thank you my dear friend.......and happy fathers day to you.....dana

[jacob erin-cilberto]

as coyote said....you tell the most intriguing and moving stories with your pen.

this makes me think of my father....95...things tumble off and from his lips...but there is still dad in there...and we still can communicate...i treasure each moment with him...

his mind is wandering...but there is still zest in his eyes.

[h d e rushin]

Thank you Jacob for those kind words...Dad at 95 is no different than Dad at any age. Keep him as close as you can for as long as you can...dana

[Coyote Poetry]

A powerful poem with a lot of story. You write with a honest pen. People touch us and like the red maple. Stay with us. I like the purpose and the meaning for the poem. Poetry support to bring old faces and memory back to us. Thank you for sharing the excellent poetry.
Coyote

[h d e rushin]

thank you so much Coyote for those kind and thoughtful words.....dana

[Coyote Poetry]

You are welcome.