Father’s burden.

020_20034_34Father’s burden.

A Poem by Coyote Poetry


My father taught me to appreciate laughter and woman.


Father’s burden

(My father  was a Ojibwa/Mexican man in 1950 USA. He never allowed anyone to look down at him.)

Father didn’t drive no Cadillac.
He drove an old Pontiac.

He never complains.
He worked his 50 hours a week.
Paid his bills and drank his beer.

He got loud with his friends.
He likes the rum.

When the rum was plenty.
I heard him wish for things to be different.

He wanted his children to have all the good things.
All children had.

He told me to get  an education so no-one will look down at you.

Father never had a lot.
He has learn to accept little.

I remember one Winter evening.
When he has too much rum.

He packed up the car.
He wanted to escape  to California.

We would drive a few miles and he would fall asleep.

A attempt to escape his world.
With no escape for this Ojibwa/ Mexican man.

Sometime I drink the rum.
I laugh like my father.

Thank to men like him.
So many walls had fallen down.

So I could have a good life.

My children can be proud to be Ojibwa/Mexican man or woman.

Father drove an old Pontiac.
He loved that old car.


© 2013 Coyote Poetry