One More Afternoon
My father was a fierce and generous man.
He left school after grade six
to cultivate the family’s country farm.
He worked hard, retired late
to earn a modest pension for his labor.
Often in his later days,
he would sit on our front porch,
visit with neighbors and tell stories.
On this August day,
I wish for one more afternoon
with my father on the front porch
telling stories.
(originally published August 19, 2016)