he calls my daughter Annie Oakley
placing a BB gun in her small hands
“you got this, girllll” he croons
channeling his inner John Wayne
bravery shines in her blue eyes
as the line of empty cans fall
he tells her she can do anything
seeing man
the man to see
busy hands covered in silver rings
he builds a house in the backyard
a place for his daughter to play
he hangs a horseshoe over the door
I grow up within the wooden walls
dancing with my best friend
knowing he would protect us
tinker man
the man to see
you don’t leave his house
without a pocketful of treasure
a genuine rock from Mars
jewels and books and toys
each item has a tall tale
he’ll tell you if you listen
with a joke and a wink
storyteller man
the man to see
he taught me to fish at 10
with wrinkled moving hands
years later he taught my son
the same casting tricks
he loved my cooked beans
and always made me smile
I’ll forever be one of Earl’s girls
gentle man
the man to see
This poem is a tribute to my childhood best friend’s father who passed recently at 92. I was only a small part of his long life, but he left a big impact on me and my children.
We love you, Earl.