A Poem for my Dad

The Saw

Hold this, my father said,
Meaning the board he was cutting
For another project he would never finish.
The silver-toothed saw snickered and whined.

It was his way, I guess,
Of reaching out. I saw nothing at all,
A small boy who wanted only
To go out and play.

© Glen Fisher

4 responses to “A Poem for my Dad”

  1. What a loving portrait of your Dad! You really resemble him.

    Like

  2. This is so good, Glen, most affecting. I’ll remember it.

    Like

    1. Thanks Ian. I was quite emotional, reading it once it was done.

      Like

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