Dad IV

I glimpse

your ghost


the sure hands

of a carpenter,

the polished grain

of Oregon pine,

the automatic way I

switch off the light when leaving a room,

the geometric folding of

a newspaper

on the train,


those who talk to


as if they were human,

to humans

as if they were

joy itself,

the cheerful scatting

of a man in his shed,


exasperation when someone goes right

to turn left,

sliced tomato on toast,

and – every morning –

in the shapes

of my


BBC – Horizon – The Ghost in Your Genes

28 thoughts on “Dad IV

    • Thanks, Cin – sadly, dogs and we have not had the benefits of his lively conversations for some years now, but the memories are clear πŸ™‚

  1. You brought tears to my eyes, bb, and I like the sound of your dad, anyone who talks to dogs as human and joy-bringers is alright in my book. (shame about the shape of the toes though, hopefully not the same size? πŸ˜‰ ) I feel all warm and fuzzy inside now. Lovely, lovely poem.
    (Um, Green with jealousy here, 3D too? Swoon!!!!!!!)

    • Ha, ha – love your comment re the toes, Pen – they’re not deformed (well, I don’t think so, anyhow – it’s just that, by appearance, the feet genes I have are mostly his πŸ™‚ )

      Re 3D – get yourself to the movies, gal! 3D-JD is even more delicious!!! πŸ˜‰

    • Thanks πŸ™‚ Dads are so precious, Kate – from snippets on your blog, it seems that you have a good relationship with yours πŸ™‚ Mine’s gone but not forgotten.

  2. Visiting from Penpushers space and came across your site beautiful style of writing and some deep thought provoking words
    I enjoyed my visit
    A lovely space
    Ian aka Emu

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