Robert Ford, “We bury our fathers”

Robert Ford’s poetry has appeared in print and online publications in the UK, US, and elsewhere, including The Interpreter’s House, Brittle Star, Butcher’s Dog, and San Pedro River Review. More of his work can be found at https://wezzlehead.wordpress.com/

orange line

We bury our fathers

because someone must,
and if not us, the sky and its crows.
We find ourselves sown into the same soil.
We wear their inherited sternness,
their over-cleaned suits that
never fit us better than this.
Our naked heads cling to the family hair,
while their confident fingers insist on
still knotting our ties, wiping our noses.
At the entrance to the graveyard,
the old tree weeps without a sound.
A relentless wind chases through it.
We have learned to do silence like men,
to smile around the solemnity of its edges.
But the boys within are ghosting around,
lambs looking for a shepherd,
still needing to be told they’re doing this –
and everything else – well enough for now.

 


 

 

 

One thought on “Robert Ford, “We bury our fathers”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s