Jim Daniels

Oranges Pop Music and Poetry Poem of the Month

Oranges January 2015

by Jim Daniels

Two months after retirement
my father is here, to get away
from 6 a.m. and his cup
of empty destination.

At a football game we huddle
under his umbrella
talking about the obvious.
He brings me coffee
to hold warm between my hands,
a gift of no occasion.

When we rise for the anthem
I hear the rusty crack of his voice
for the first time maybe ever.

Thirty-three years of coughing
thick factory air, of drifting to sleep
through the heavy ring of machinery,
of twelve-hour days. In my sleep
I felt the cold bump of his late-night kiss.

I shiver in the rain
as my father sings me
what I now hear as
a children’s song. I lean into him,
the umbrella and rain my excuse,
my shoulder against his,
and I imagine my mother
falling in love.

More Oranges Poetry

May 2014

June 24, 2014

April 2014

May 15, 2014

March 2014

April 20, 2014

February 2014

February 17, 2014

January 2014

December 31, 2013

All Oranges Poetry

click for every oranges poem... ever