Memory of My Father -Patrick Kavanagh

Memory of My Father -Patrick KavanaghEvery old man I seeReminds me of my fatherWhen he had fallen in love with deathOne time when sheaves were gathered.That man I saw in Gardiner StreetStumble on the kerb was one,He stared at me half-eyed,I might have been his son. And I remember the musicianFaltering over his fiddleIn Bayswater, London.He too set me the riddle. Every old man I seeIn October-coloured weatherSeems to say to me"I was once your father." Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.