Buffed, my father's shoes
lay outside the front door.

He'd slip them off, then slipped on
slippers, inside the door...
"no dust, no dirt" he would mutter.

I was young, running through
the outside bramble as most young men
have a want to do.

"Upstairs, young man, assume the position".

It had to be dirt, but I had mowed the lawn
to specifications.

I waited for the strap, bare bottomed
and thought of his shoes.

Then thought of the gas can
in the garage.

I am saying those shoes of his
would hold a pint but it would only tale a cap-full
to torch those buffed beauties.

Dilemma...now or when he's gone or perhaps
I'll slip them on and run through the mud, then slip them into the box
before they close the lid, save on the gas.

He'd like that.

Anonymous

On Thursday, December 22, 2022 at 2:46:01 PM UTC-5, blackpo...@aol.com wrote:
> Buffed, my father's shoes
> lay outside the front door.
>
> He'd slip them off, then slipped on
> slippers, inside the door...
> "no dust, no dirt" he would mutter.
>
> I was young, running through
> the outside bramble as most young men
> have a want to do.
>
> "Upstairs, young man, assume the position".
>
> It had to be dirt, but I had mowed the lawn
> to specifications.
>
> I waited for the strap, bare bottomed
> and thought of his shoes.
>
> Then thought of the gas can
> in the garage.
>
> I am saying those shoes of his
> would hold a pint but it would only tale a cap-full
> to torch those buffed beauties.
>
> Dilemma...now or when he's gone or perhaps
> I'll slip them on and run through the mud, then slip them into the box
> before they close the lid, save on the gas.
>
> He'd like that.
>
> Anonymous

LOL!

How nice that Geor... the narrator, managed to "be cool" about his father in the end -- giving him a farewell token that would serve as a symbolic revenge, while simultaneously seeking his father's posthumous approval.