17 June 2018

In Honor of Father's Day

The whisky on your breath
Could make a small boy dizzy;
But I hung on like death:
Such waltzing was not easy.

We romped until the pans
Slid from the kitchen shelf;
My mother's countenance
Could not unfrown itself.

The hand that held my wrist
Was battered on one knuckle;
At every step you missed
My right ear scraped a buckle.

You beat time on my head
With a palm caked hard by dirt,
Then waltzed me off to bed
Still clinging to your shirt.

My Papa's Waltz
by Theodore Roethke

May your Father's Day land gently.


Araignee said...

So many of us are missing our dad's today. It must be the age we have become.

Tired Teacher said...

My Dad died 52 years ago - I was 15; he was 56. It saddens me that I didn't really get a chance to know him as an adult.

Vera said...

That's a fun poem Bridget. I agree with Deb...so many of us missing our Dad's today.

Kym said...

What a lovely poem, Bridget. XO