My Mom's Daddy
I
met my
mom's daddy
when she took us
to live on his farm.
He was big, bald and Welsh.
Mom said he sang and liked to
tease her girlfriends when she was young.
I recall that long country lane and
big yellow house and a day in the barn.
As Grandpa milked a cow, he squirted milk
from its teat into my mouth and then
let me taste feed from a sack. It
was like molasses! That and
suppers with him are all
I recall. His farm
and life are gone.
I wish I’d
heard him
sing.
For the Daddy Contest of Leonora
Copyright © Andrea Dietrich | Year Posted 2011
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