Images
of my Father
You are the mutant goose
with grey coat and orange beak,
the clown of the Columbia River,
the small boy who scans
the River Blackwater for salmon,
the soft voices of County Cork,
young Mattie from Youghal,
who sits on a wall of stone,
eats raw turnip,
ignores his sister Minnie's call.
You are the froth
on all the world's pints,
the first sharp bitter taste
that slakes the thirst,
the pub voices
raised in raucous song,
the first man to top a pun,
the final wit who caps
an argument.
You are six months ashes,
they say, but not for me.
At closing time,
you finish your Paddy,
and you are the last
to leave the establishment.
-- Deirdre Hendrie
Deirdre Hendrie was born in Ireland and came to Montreal
in her early
teens. She has worked in Canada and Europe. Currently she is teaching
Developmental Education at Selkirk College in British Columbia. She has
two grown children, a husband, Gordon and a yellow labrador called Finn.
Her hobbies are reading, writing, camping and travelling.
