Boy And Father
THE BOY Alexander understands his father to be a famous lawyer.
The leather law books of Alexander's father fill a room like hay in a barn.
Alexander has asked his father to let him build a house like bricklayers build, a house with walls and roofs made of big leather law books.
The rain beats on the windows
And the raindrops run down the window glass
And the raindrops slide off the green blinds down the siding.
The boy Alexander dreams of Napoleon in John C. Abbott's history, Napoleon the grand and lonely man wronged, Napoleon in his life wronged and in his memory wronged.
The boy Alexander dreams of the cat Alice saw, the cat fading off into the dark and leaving the teeth of its Cheshire smile lighting the gloom.
Buffaloes, blizzards, way down in Texas, in the panhandle of Texas snuggling close to New Mexico,
These creep into Alexander's dreaming by the window when his father talks with strange men about land down in Deaf Smith County.
Alexander's father tells the strange men: Five years ago we ran a Ford out on the prairie and chased antelopes.
Only once or twice in a long while has Alexander heard his father say 'my first wife' so-and-so and such-and-such.
A few times softly the father has told Alexander, 'Your mother ... was a beautiful woman ... but we won't talk about her.'
Always Alexander listens with a keen listen when he hears his father mention 'my first wife' or 'Alexander's mother.'
Alexander's father smokes a cigar and the Episcopal rector smokes a cigar and the words come often: mystery of life, mystery of life.
These two come into Alexander's head blurry and gray while the rain beats on the windows and the raindrops run down the window glass and the raindrops slide off the green blinds and down the siding.
These and: There is a God, there must be a God, how can there be rain or sun unless there is a God?
So from the wrongs of Napoleon and the Cheshire cat smile on to the buffaloes and blizzards of Texas and on to his mother and to God, so the blurry gray rain dreams of Alexander have gone on five minutes, maybe ten, keeping slow easy time to the raindrops on the window glass and the raindrops sliding off the green blinds and down the siding.
Read this poem in other languages
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
Comments about this poem (Boy And Father by Carl Sandburg )
(12 July 1904 – 23 September 1973)
(March 26, 1874 – January 29, 1963)
(4 April 1928 - 28 May 2014)
(16 August 1920 – 9 March 1994)
(10 December 1830 – 15 May 1886)
(27 October 1914 – 9 November 1953)
(1 February 1902 – 22 May 1967)
Rainer Maria Rilke
(4 December 1875 – 29 December 1926)
Mewlana Jalaluddin Rumi
(1207 - 1273)
(26 April 1564 - 23 April 1616)
- A Child's Christmas in Wales, Dylan Thomas
- Still I Rise, Maya Angelou
- Invictus, William Ernest Henley
- The Boy Who Laughed At Santa Claus, Ogden Nash
- The Three Kings, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
- I Know Why The Caged Bird Sings, Maya Angelou
- TRUE MEANING OF CHRISTMAS, Eugene W. Miller
- If You Forget Me, Pablo Neruda
- The Road Not Taken, Robert Frost
- Dreams, Langston Hughes
Poem of the Day
- Heart on Fire, Jennifer Colyne Hall
- 'Tis a Somewhat Sad Christmas!, Dr John Celes
- Let me observe carefully, gajanan mishra
- Waiting, Jennifer Colyne Hall
- Thank all and smile, hasmukh amathalal
- O my Lord, gajanan mishra
- The Day Is Gone, And All Its Sweets Are .., Luo Zhihai
- Picturing, RoseAnn V. Shawiak
- Flag of peace, gajanan mishra
- Changing Positions, RoseAnn V. Shawiak