Poem for my Father: Blue Collar Angel – Mark Tulin (Crow On The Wire)

Dad woke me at 2 a.m.
It was hard to leave a warm bed
and a cherry-colored dream.
“It’s time for us to go to work,” Dad said,
“to buy fruit and vegetables for our store.”

It was bitter cold outside.
The winds rattled the double-pane windows
and the snow came down
hard and heavy
over the darkened houses of our street.

But I could not refuse.
Dad was my blue-collar angel
who told me to wear my long johns
and a heavy coat with the fleece-lined hood.
“And don’t forget your galoshes,” he reminded.

So I wiped the crust from my eyes,
and left the comfort of the woolen blankets
as we made our way decisively
through the slushy streets of Philadelphia
into the soul of an unforgiving winter.
The two of us, breaking the silence of the morning.

online at: https://crowonthewire.com/

This poem was first published in Amethyst Review.  Please visit this website, if you haven’t already.

Published by grumpygorman

I am a Social Worker by day and an artist/writer by night. I use the written word in an attempt to make sense of the secret worlds and dysfunctional dynamics that lurk beneath the facades of our daily interactions. I am not sure how my writing styles are characterized, nor am I overly concerned about it. I am immensely enthusiastic about music and often connect better with songs than I do people. I also have an intense appreciation for quality wines and whiskies, frequently consuming them in excess. I like things that smell good and struggle to manage the symptoms of a life-long relationship with depression. So, why "grumpygorman"? Spend some time here and find out...

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