A little mercy now.

September poetry number eighteen. 1990 journal poetry number four.

A little mercy now..

My father never cried, he never complained about life.

My father rarely smiled with the burden of life surrounding him.

His body and heart gave up,

in the struggle of living.

One night, he got up and left us.

I never understood in ways in my youth.

I denounced his ways of living and

I could not forgive him.

Till my life became a useless journey.

On a September day in 1990.

My dreams, my hope became a fool's dream.

Now the world was pushing me back into a corner and

I couldn't break the walls of disappointment away.

I learn, my father was just a man,

trying to keep everyone happy and 

who gave my dad something in return?

Who was there when my father saw his job took from him and

his wife. Love turn to sour and coldness.

He could give us children, just enough.

This broke his heart.

Once proud man, now tried to live.

He found peace, only in the bottles of rum.

I was lucky and I told my father on his death bed.

I know you did your best,

I know the damn wars and life.

Broke your heart and mind.

I know you cried,

only tears you could feel.

You create a river of pain never to stop.

I know now.

You were just a man.

I pray he knew.

How much we loved him.

Someday at the great Ojibwa Pow Wow in the sky.

I will thank you, my father.

Coyote

Author's Note

Thank you for reading.

Reviews

[Chris Shaw]

You made your peace with your Father on his death bed Coyote. That would have given him some comfort. We never know what's in the mind and heart of others or why they do the things they do as we do not walk in their shoes. Forgiveness is everything and I sincerely hope you meet your Father again at that great pow wow in the sky. A very poignant and honest write.

Chris

[Coyote Poetry]

I learn early in my life. Sometime life wasn't fair. I befriended my father and we stay friends till he died at 61. Thank you dear Chris for reading and the comment. This poem was written in 1990 my dear friend.

[Lydia Shutter]

Such a sad write. Filled with honest emotion. As we grow older, we realize our parents were just doing the best they could. I am sure your father knew you loved him and surely he loved you as well. Yes, hopefully you will be reunited some day. Lydi**

[Coyote Poetry]

I hope dear Lydia. We do learn. Life will test us and thank you for reading and the comment my dear friend.

[Katrina Mckeown]

Life can be cruel and life can be kind and at other times …it can totally mess with your mind casting doubts and fears throughout the years and you become judgmental on other’s behaviours and as time gives us a lesson …that not all was or is how it may seem as you may have only been shown part of the story at the time… you get a piece to add to the picture the more time unfolds.
Katrina

[Coyote Poetry]

You are right dear Katrina. No easy life. We hope, in the end. We did some good. Thank you for reading and the comment.

[red93]

Beautiful words Coyote. We are all just doing our best when it comes down to it. At least you saw your Father at the end and were able to reconcile.

[Coyote Poetry]

I was blessed my friend. We became good friends for 15 years. Thank you for reading and the kind words.

[W. Barrett Munn]

Rather amazing I just heard Ada Limon talking of deciding one day to write a poem about her father and giving it to him. And here you have done the same.

Winston

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you Winston. Life is a fair teacher. We will learn. Life can be hard and life can be sweet.

[Kaye]

My grandfather and an uncle of mine served in ww2, they would tell me stories about it.
This is an emotional read, nicely expressed. You used powerful imagery

[Coyote Poetry]

Thank you dear Kaye for reading and the comment. War teaches us. Being alive is good.