My Father’s Birthday (COVID)

Longtime gone my father mysterious man

my father wrote a letter

to The Evening Sentinel titled

How to Have a Good Life

Marry, he said, have two children and find a way

to earn a living

my father who sent me postcards

every week when I was in college every week when I

went to the Israeli Peace Corps my father  had

a beautiful handwriting  never revealed much

he had a difficult mother  my father who liked puns

liked comedians liked Jack Paar

played violin and piano and said:

Think the Rain Will Harm the Rhubarb?

Not if it’s in cans.

 

 

Esther Cohen
Let me tell you why I'm here, and why I hope you'll join me. I am here to poem, to play with words, to tell stories when I can, and to ask you for yours. Words are what I love, how I see, and what I say. Words are how I know my life, and how I find my friends. I'm here to ask you to join me. Right here. To send me your stories, and your poems. And to read mine when you can.

4 Comments

  1. And my father always said “Think the rain will hurt the rutabaga!”

    And, when getting up from dinner to go to the bathroom said

    “I’m going to see a man about a horse”.

    Or, “Time to go to the Library.”

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