Things My Father Taught Me

My father, John, died suddenly when I was 26 years old. Over the years I've written several poems about him.

Last Monday, February 13th was the 25th anniversary of his death. I remembered a story my aunt told me about the day my father skipped school. He had an important reason, and the poem tells the rest of the tale.

MY FATHER TAUGHT ME

My father taught me tenderness,
in his words and actions,
and even in his fierceness
there was a caring

we seldom see in the world
anymore. When he was a boy
he stayed home from school
to feed kittens from a dropper

all day. It doesn't matter
that they didn't survive;
a kitten held in a boy's hand
is all we need to see and know.

When he fed the kittens
he was feeding us all. It's good
to know that some things stay
in the world longer than hate.

(Copyright Allan Cooper, 2006)