Mom's home-cooked noon dinner finished,
portable radio on the Formica table,
Dad reading The Des Moines Register,
bib overalls and plaid shirt,
leather lace-up shoes, Rockford socks.
Lee Kline on WHO Radio's noon farm show,
news and weather and the farm markets,
Mom's white Youngstown kitchen cupboards,
sights and sounds of my childhood,
my teenage years.
That radio, Dad's spot at the table,
where often he'd make his own
childhood dessert, bread
crumbled in a glass of milk,
eaten with a spoon.
Then, folded arms on the table,
cradling his weary head, a power nap
before heading out for farmwork,
fortified by Mom's home cooking
and farm news from that portable radio.
Bless you, Elaine. That radio is what “got me.” Dad even hauled it around to listen to ballgames, even taking it to bed if he was too tired to sit up with it.
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That pic has to evoke a lot of memories. Wonderful poem!
Bless you, Elaine. That radio is what “got me.” Dad even hauled it around to listen to ballgames, even taking it to bed if he was too tired to sit up with it.
Love this! 🙂 (Even without the photo, your words paint a picture! )
That radio in the photo triggered it! Bless you, Linda.
I love how your poem capture that moment from your growing-up years.
Bless you, Liz.
🙂
You captured a lot in those few words. I love the power nap image.
Thank you, Bob!
Nice memories. It triggered a lot of memories for me also.
Thank you, Don. That old radio started the whole thing!