“My Father”

By Lucy Baldwin

My father, he loved beautiful
Houses. He dreamed of nicer
Homes. If he were with us
Months ago when we visited
A condominium showroom up
In a mountain, he would’ve
Been mesmerized by the place’s

He had a very particular taste.
He did not like noisy,
Ugly neighborhoods. He loved
Fine things: fine clothes,
Fine shoes, fine cars, and
He got them all, while
At the same time remaining
Modest and simple.

He was very orderly and organized
With his things. His stuff
Were always neatly arranged
On his working table and in his
Closet and dresser.

And if there’s one thing
He really hated, it’s
Tardiness, or being made
To wait for even a single minute.
And I was rarely on time.
I cannot count the number of
Instances that he lost his temper
With me. And on his last
Day on earth, I wasn’t there
By his side because I was fifteen
Minutes late.

My father, he loved to work
Hard. He was a very “hands-on”
Kind of man. He fixed everything
There was to fix inside our house.
He especially loved to fix
Our cars. But he also relished
Comfort, once in a while.
He wanted to relax sometimes.
He was able to travel a few times.

The grass is green over his grave.
He shares his tombstone with
His mother. There is no shade
Over the earth, so it is
Scorching hot during the day.
But the rainy days are here
Again. When the downpour was
Heavy, he would go outside the
House and check the ceiling for
Leaks. He would see whether
The water has not flooded
The streets. He was always
Cautious, careful, and forward-looking.
He always took care of us.


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