My Father- 3

We dug clay you had softened for me,
Rolled them down the mound of time
Pressed dark brown bricks,
Designed tiles for roof tracks,
Stacked them in kilns,
Layer on layer in lines,
Fed them with logs of rubber wood,
Blew hot through flues of childhood,
Heard them, knotty crackles,
Looked out for the glow sparkles,
With them we built our home,
Lived warm dreams awesome.

Advertisements

2 thoughts on “My Father- 3

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s