Dad’s Farm
He had a bit of George Bailey
In him, my dad.
Small-town guy, tied down
In a way.
Instead of a savings and loan, though,
Dad had a farm.
The land was our family’s
For generations.
Dad populated it with
Hay and tobacco and cows
And sweat.
But unlike George Bailey,
My dad successfully shook off
The dust of his hometown.
My stilltown.
He traveled to all seven continents,
Two only for a little while
Just to say he did.
Dad died eleven years ago,
And, with my sisters, I sold the family farm.
Am I, then, a sell-out …
A thankless ingrate?
I just know I wasn’t a farmer.
But a traveler, yes
I am.
6 thoughts on "Dad’s Farm"
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Your stilltown! Love that. Like you and your dad I’ve also traveled the world a fair bit though those days are mostly over. Good poem.
I love how the only two-syllable lines are “And sweat” and “I am.”
“And sweat” was a late add. 🙂
Reminds me of Seamus Heaney’s “Digging” — sons reckoning with choosing to not follow in their fathers’ agricultural paths.
Love the rhythm and image in this:
He had a bit of George Bailey
In him, my dad.
My stilltown. – Absolutely beautiful with so many meanings. Sounds like you all found a bit of the wonderful life!