Poem of the Week

I Take My Father Camping
July 16, 2008

I take my father camping with me
in small ways:
eyes open wide, set on the horizon,
an eager lean into a long curve of road,
easy delight at another click of the odometer.

I take my father camping with me
in small ways:
a prominent chin in need of a shave,
a knee that complains about a steep downhill,
a back that slopes like a gentle hillside.

I take my father camping with me
in small ways:
bitter complaints about weak coffee,
an easy grin and a sweet tooth,
a sense of humor, drier than tinder.

I take my father with me always,
in small ways.