near the end
of his life,
my father gaveme
the shovel he used
on a farm
in Nova Scotia,
circ1933.
the rake,
the trowel.
he gave me the leather
reins
that he used
for his horse. the bucket
that he
carried seed in,
or to milk
the cow.
i told him thank you.
thank you.
but didn't tell him
that it felt
too late now.
No comments:
Post a Comment