Submit Your Poems
Get Your Premium Membership

CreationEarth Nature Photos

My Fathers Love Letters

 On Fridays he'd open a can of Jax
After coming home from the mill,
& ask me to write a letter to my mother
Who sent postcards of desert flowers
Taller than men.
He would beg, Promising to never beat her Again.
Somehow I was happy She had gone, & sometimes wanted To slip in a reminder, how Mary Lou Williams' "Polka Dots & Moonbeams" Never made the swelling go down.
His carpenter's apron always bulged With old nails, a claw hammer Looped at his side & extension cords Coiled around his feet.
Words rolled from under the pressure Of my ballpoint: Love, Baby, Honey, Please.
We sat in the quiet brutality Of voltage meters & pipe threaders, Lost between sentences .
The gleam of a five-pound wedge On the concrete floor Pulled a sunset Through the doorway of his toolshed.
I wondered if she laughed & held them over a gas burner.
My father could only sign His name, but he'd look at blueprints & say how many bricks Formed each wall.
This man, Who stole roses & hyacinth For his yard, would stand there With eyes closed & fists balled, Laboring over a simple word, almost Redeemed by what he tried to say.

by Yusef Komunyakaa
Biography | Poems | Best Poems | Short Poems | Quotes | Email Poem - My Fathers Love LettersEmail Poem |
Comment below this ad.

Top Yusef Komunyakaa Poems

Analysis and Comments on My Fathers Love Letters

Provide your analysis, explanation, meaning, interpretation, and comments on the poem My Fathers Love Letters here.