Goodbye Daddy

if you’d fished or golfed or wore a tie,
would it feel different to see you die?
instead you tinkered under the hood
and gave us that look
our only option
“be good!”
I can hear the sound as you spit bits of brown
from your Pall Mall
I can still see your Jammie pants
coming down the hall.
Some daddies took their daughters to a baseball game,
you took me to the junk yard
it was fun all the same.
if my elbows found their way on the table at a meal,
the silver ware jumped-then we got the manners schpiel
although you were gruff, mean; not the preferred “daddy type”
there was so much love just knowing
you were there, as we slept each night.

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