My poem about my dad, just appeared in Locust Magazine. Here is the poem and the link:
~ A Poem by Steven Deutsch ~
My dad drove a taxi
on the night shift
through the tired streets of Manhattan,
his nights filled
with swampy coffee
ejected from the local bars.
He’d tell the story
of the drunk that paid
his tab twelve times
in crisp twenties
thinking each time his ride has just ended
or of the ride he gave
to Marilyn Monroe
who kissed him on the cheek
because she didn’t have a dime.
But, most days he slept.
We tiptoed past him–
dead to the world
on the fold-out couch
in the living room of our tiny apartment
and tried to be so quiet.
When he had one Saturday free
he took me to Ebetts Field.
He loved the Brooklyn Dodgers.
Campanella, Hodges, Pee Wee Reese
and most of all Duke Snyder.
We sat in the bleachers
In the blazing sun
and watched Sal Maggie
and Hoyt Wilhelm
take it to the seventh,
Dad went for hot dogs at the stretch
and came back with two for me
just after the Duke homered in the ninth
to win the game one to nothing.
We didn’t speak on the train going home.
But on Sunday around the bagels and lox.
He told that story with a smile and a laugh.
It was my only trip to Ebbets Field
and his last.
Steve, I really like your poem for its quiet, elegiac tone. It’s very touching and I can relate to the Brooklyn Dodgers imagery. The Dodgers (in Brooklyn) are long gone, but they live on in the memories of their legion of fans.
Thanks Bill. I’m glad you like it. I love to write about my dad. He was a good guy and loved life.