In 1961 I asked my dad,
Papi, when will 1961 come back?
He said'Juanito, please don't feel bad,
But 1961 won't ever come back.'
In 1961 I was eight years old.
I didn't know it at the time,
That only twelve more years, I'd hold,
That aging father of mine.
Beautiful craft of memory and tribute together. Good poem with easy flow. Thank you for your openness. 10++++++ Regards, pranab
Written, I could tell with much love in your heart, Juan and I know that this poem will always live within you. A very good write.
When I saw the title,1961, I just knew it was about Roger Maris & #61. Oh well...
Very nice poem about the love you shared with your father. Family ties are one of the most important things in life. My father lived to be 86 but my mother was only 44 when she passed away. I have written poems about both of them but will not advertise the titles here. 1961, however, will appear again. Just turn it upside down, and there it is! Congrats on poem of the day! Well written.
That only twelve more years, I'd hold, That aging father of mine. the impossibility and possibility are very well connected with lots of emotion attached...Appa, I admire and follow what ever you had taught me through Hindu way of living...
This poem is very moving, and filled with the pathos of life. If only we could go back in time... or, perhaps far enough ahead even...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beautiful poem, Juan. Very moving words.