MUSED
BellaOnline Literary Review
A Whale of a Tale by Kim Rumford

Poetry


The Logger

Sue Russell

my father
is the smell of sawed pine
dust in the creases
of his black jeans

I saw a picture of him once
a crooked cocky smile
on his full lips

an axe in one hand
hard hat at a jaunty angle
over haughty eyes

my father
is the smell of morning mountains
released in the soft folds
of his flannel shirt

I heard a story about him once
a saucy schoolboy
full of piss and vinegar

rewired the school bells
released his classmates
an hour early

my father
is the smell of thick black axle grease
etched in fine lines
on his calloused hands

I saw him return once
before the forest darkened
his face gone grey with grief

laughter put to rest
with his best friend
under a fallen tree.



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Reader Feedback:
this poem, "The Logger" cuts to the core of a daughter's love for her father. By the end of the piece, I had come to love him, too. All the sights, sounds and smells pulled me in. I wanted to be wrapped in his big flannel covered arms.
~stacey dye

I like the ending verse
putting grief in your father's face
after reading about his carefree nature.
~poetrywatch



Fall Equinox 2011 Table of Contents