This Anger is coiling a weight around
his labours all the afternoon, but
Dad’s tools make meaningful the task:
these screwdrivers, Allen keys, all new.
The bookcase gapes, a hunger for books:
the Biblical, Political, Philosophical -
hardbacks, no paperbacks. To read
would gate a wall for him to unlock
and walking through to hear his Dad.
Years later, after buying a spade,
he dug a hole as if to make a pond.
He buried books and planted a Bodhi tree.
Hi Phil, you play with language here, to sound different, fresh, especially in the first stanza. But it’s the imagery that stands out for me, especially the books buried beneath the fig tree… tree of enlightenment.
Cheers David. Pleased the ending got there. It was the final tweak!
Phil
When you get old enough to look at a persons library of books it gives a window into how they think and especially how the N applies it in this piece to understand a father. And a father burying his thinking, understanding a person needs to do it on their own. At least that’s my take. Nicely done.
The bookcase gapes; in particular, I like the possibilities, the unsaid there. Very interesting write, Phil.