Dad's Way
My father was deaf,
We never talked that much.
My father was strong,
I never argued much.
His eyes were steady, his reach was long,
I never ventured far.
His rule was the rule,
I never dared questioned that,
when I got rebellious, he kicked my butt.
When I asked him a question, he would ask me more.
My father confused me,
He challenged me,
He at times neglected me.
I remember fondly, as a child, running along water soaked logs, searching for speckled trout.
My fathers warnings as I ventured forth.
He fell between the logs.
His legs rest upon one log his head on another.
In shock I returned to his side,
he looked up at me, and like the Buddha he laughed.
This use to be my way of life upon these logs, Johnny!
Perhaps I have lost my footing?
At the time I thought I had the upper hand.
My father beneath me, my hand out reached to retrieve him.
I pulled him up, so proud I did save him.
It was many tears and many years later I realized his fall was to save me!
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