The Dad Series

Blue Horizon

It was a fly over, a crow’s view from a small plane.

A hot still moment of summer captured

with so much LIFE in a flat photo.

The landscape down there

means much to your daughter.

Our Farm, Our Farm...

Cattle are sprinkled everywhere.

Dad, are you there somewhere? In your favorite chair?

On your tractor? Out on the distant horizon?

I would fall face first from the Kansas sky

if I could find you now.

The Work Shirt

The day after you died,

Mom burned all your boots and overalls with the old tin cans.

She said she'd been waiting for years to do that.

I ask for of your blue work shirt from the closet.

It smelled like manure, and Mom hated farm smells.

The chambray is in my closet now.

With each inhale, the fragrance fades.

Mark of the Beast

Your weathered hands now quietly crossed.

The funeral director asks if there was an accident,
Because the curve of your spine is awkward and bent,

And your forehead is creased
With the mark of a beast.

There was the horse who pinned you in the railroad track,
the tire you changed when your heart said attack,
the day your forehead smacked the Chevy glass,
and a then steer literally kicked your ass.

No sir, we don't know why he won't lie flat.

Corral #5

The chocolate lab was named Obama.
The far sections were North and South Iran.
There was a tractor named Suck Egg.
Everything in your world named with a wink.

Articles came with notes on yellow lined paper
Concerns with commentary cut from headlines.
Mad cows, Washington, casinos on Boot Hill
All signed, love Dad, corral #5.

Kid, the message is you can drink and gamble your way to success.
Kid, got a little break here from corn harvest.
Kid, the USDA man told me airport security is not good.
Kid, we seem to have strong country, I think.