Happy Father's Day Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

Happy Father's Day

Rating: 3.6


And soon
we'll meet again,
old man.
Me, bearing flowers,
chaperoned by
one sweet niece,
'to show the ropes'
to me, the stranger.
And water things.
You, in the ground
since that cold day
in March,
with snow
still in the hills.

Your hills
where you meandered,
chased after that
psychopathic dog,
while reminiscing
over notable
advantages,
most imagined,
of long-gone days.
And of this,
the new world,
made entirely
for others.

Yet, you took pride
in always doing
your best
in any circumstance.
'Some day,
you said,
I'll be six feet under',
yeah,
and watching,
also judging,
maybe praising
surely condemning,
only the role
of executioner
to be denied.

That day did come.
You were prepared
of course.
The moment that
you closed
the final book,
and the last journal
where you had searched
with urgency
and all your brilliance,
for one more cure.
The one that would,
though hard to find,
be carrying your name.

When you were beaten
you would nod,
as if to say
'the subject's closed',
that's what you did.
As to the rest of us,
those left,
we were perplexed
and short of words,
of clever thoughts.
And were expected
(and observed)
to show appropriate
behaviour,
like grief
and talent
of an organising spirit.

Which, being in a
niche of status
in a society,
stitched and
held together
by musty remnants
of our everlasting
bourgeoisie.
We did.

This time, old man
I want to warn you
in advance
with unaccustomed
and antipodean-like
courtesy,
there will be little
if any
conversation.
What, with the kid,
she'd be so
ill-prepared
and might get
traumatised.
In any case,
we said our piece
last visit,
surely you remember,
it's when I asked
if you were comfy
in that hole,
hopefully not cold.
Not much to add this time,
though here is one,
a thought
to cheer you up,
I know it will,
you've had one
Father's Day already,
and I, respectful son,
who lives in
a Down Under
that's still above
the ground
(what a pun, sorry) ,
brings you another one,
a different date
from different worlds.
Thus you get two
just for the price of one.

So, I must close now.
My plane is leaving,
soon, too soon perhaps,
just wanted you to know
that I'll be there
to say Hello and
Happy Father's Day.

'Til then,
from man to man,
I send respect
to you, while going
back in time
to very early
memories.

COMMENTS OF THE POEM
Raynette Eitel 22 June 2005

This poem is so natural, not terribly emotional, but the pain is palpable...and the respect, and oh yes, the humor. This is a wonderfully human poem and a wonderful tribute of a son's love for a father, despite their history. Thanks for sharing it. Raynette

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allan james saywell 22 June 2005

i feel a lot of pain between father and son in this poem a certain amount of unfinished business a lot of things i can relate to myself Liam

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