Memory Of My Father

Every old man I see
Reminds me of my father
When he had fallen in love with death
One time when sheaves were gathered.

That man I saw in Gardner Street
Stumbled on the kerb was one,
He stared at me half-eyed,
I might have been his son.

And I remember the musician
Faltering over his fiddle
In Bayswater, London,
He too set me the riddle.

Every old man I see
In October-coloured weather
Seems to say to me:
"I was once your father."

by Patrick Kavanagh

Comments (13)

Very nice poem.😨
A great poem keep it up ....
Such a great poem by Patrick Kavanagh👍👍👍
a great poem....i like it........thank U for sharing
A father that was well loved no doubt. Sterling poem!
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