I hear his
whistling tune
his footsteps
on the stairs
I see his
model trains
racing round
the track
I smell the
oil and sawdust
amidst his
basement tools
he taught me
of wild birds
and took me
out to farms
we wandered
his backyard
discoveries
for this child
he died when
I was young
but we have
stayed in touch
whistling tune
his footsteps
on the stairs
I see his
model trains
racing round
the track
I smell the
oil and sawdust
amidst his
basement tools
he taught me
of wild birds
and took me
out to farms
we wandered
his backyard
discoveries
for this child
he died when
I was young
but we have
stayed in touch