I've been sketching on this one for a few days. I'll keep sketching on it in the days to come. It will lengthen, clarify, who knows, maybe even turn into an actual, good poem...
Things My Father Taught Me:
Dovetailing corners builds the strongest furniture.
Food cooked over a fire always tastes better.
Just how to paddle, just how to lean in a canoe going over rapids.
More than respect for my elders: an active love for them.
Respect for his anger, respect for his firm broad palms.
Respect for myself.
Forgiveness.
Everything in its right place.
Stand up straight, head up, shoulders back, soldier, chest out.
How to waltz, at my cousin's wedding, standing on the toes of his shoes.
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