Returning Home to Bury Dad

[BobBradshaw]

  Returning Home to Bury Dad


    I dug through a chest with photos,
    one showing Dad in a sailor hat,

    years before I knew him,
    on leave during the war.

    What kind of life did he lead
    before he married mom?

    He was colorful and confident
    as this photo shows--straddling

    an alligator at a county fair,
    rocking backwards.
  
    Did I ever know my father?
    A workaholic, his absences 

    were what I knew best,  
    but as I sifted through photos, 

    I regretted not knowing Dad better.   
    Facing a long drive home, 

    I grabbed a photo, slipping it
    inside my shirt pocket

    --grieving for an absence
    that would never quite
    leave
       

[Michael (MV)]

 
Hi Bob,


the is that isn't : the isn't that is


From the start, the experience is actually like an unburying - an exhumation -

not the corpse - the Life - the God-created relationship of father & son

Life exhumed
with the light
of the son



here

"What kind of life did he lead
before he married mom?"


and here

"Did I ever know my father?"


and here

"I regretted not knowing Dad better."

^^ expository, telling



Strong the exit, very strong & fleeting - a formidable, viable reverberation of the cliché:

"absence makes the heart grow fonder"

^^ echoes I am with you always

^^ Thus, will be closer than ever now - the finite is no longer in the way -

Light
the dynamite
that blows away the finite



Your poem recalls to me Mark Strand's "Keeping Things Whole "

link http://cfmark.blogspot.com/2011/04/keep ... whole.html

and one of mine: from the swan song of MELIC: http://www.melicreview.com/current/

"Foghorn" http://www.melicreview.com/current/virga%20poem.htm


and a serendipity: I came across this phrase this very afternoon: "past as prelude"

to which I'm prompted to advance: the past as prelude to the perfect future present





below workshop in toto, for your perusal & consideration

Michael (MV)     always already homesick for a home I have yet to arrive too



I dug through a chest with photos,
one showing Dad in a sailor hat,

years before I knew him,
on leave during the war.

A colorful and confident bachelor,
as this photo shows him straddling

an alligator at a county fair,
rocking backwards.

As a family man, a workaholic.
As I sifted through photos,

I realized Dad's absences
were what I remembered best,

Facing a long drive home,
I slipped a photo inside my shirt pocket

--grieving for an absence
that would never quite
leave

 
 
 
 
  
 
 
 
 

 
 
 
 
 

[BobBradshaw]

Thanks, Michael...those are lovely links.

[Bernie01]

Bob---


clarity in abundance. but "four" uses of the word photos. suggest some change-up.

also, "work a holic." clear, but prosaic.

maybe a reference to several of his tasks...?


bob, the right idea and i enjoyed reading the poem, a nostalgic vision formed for me. very good.



bernie

[SivaRamanathan]

Bob

Simple and direct.A poem that works for me because of the form and controlled words.

Siva