my father
is a solid stepper
amid a generation
of soft shoers
& scuffling shufflers
was young with
WW II, did not die
nor get discouraged
but rather fought
on both fronts
and unflinchingly brought
the fight back
home, after
korea
a country boy
who walked miles
for school & job
he married the minister's
daughter (who was
a school teacher)
but never went
out to lunch for
class or church,
could sing but usually
kept his baritone
at home
i remember him home
making us work
rising with the sun
and planting food
in the city
i remember him home
waxing floors
on his knees
and requiring his sons
to follow his lead learning
to cook and clean
but mostly
i remember him man
teaching me
consistency: the
importance of principle,
the necessity of
struggle and the
immense beauty
of interrelating
with a good woman
what more could
a son receive
from a father
than the realness
of life lived
like a conscious
African(american)
man!
sho-nuff simply doing
his duty, in his own
context, in his own
space and time.