Memories of my Father
I remember... the train whistling by that old pickup truck,
As i sat there all curled up,
Beneath mounds of coats in a place
I called home.
I remember ...the local dump with all of its muck,
We held our heads high as we rummaged through the garbage and all of its rubble.
Old worn clothes, rusty old auto parts and other stuff.
I remember..a blanket for Cheryl,
...a jacket for Billy,
...a baseball cap for Jerry,
... and for Charlie a little rubber duck.
I remember... our piles nearly touched the sky.
“I’m not rich kids” the old man sighed.
“Lets go home, ma’s cookin’ up chops!”
I remember... he used to say, “A family that works together, stays together.”
And by God, we did.
I remember... praying for a winter not like the past. We prayed our tiny box car would find
its tracks and go real fast and that brown bag of peanuts behind my daddy’s back ...........
would last and last.
Although, the sons and daughters of International Falls,
Often went with out.
Some said “they gave and gave”
Until it all ran out.
One by one, they all left that place
Never questioning the things they had,
As being second rate.
The day my daddy died,
He didn’t leave us much
Just a junkyard full of memories
But most of all just.....US.
These words are based on the memories of my dad's childhood years, i created this poem as part of a scrapbook that i put together for him.
remember, family, died, memories