Clippings

To childhood memories

I received a gift in the mail today
It was in a tattered box, from mother.
It was my dad's wallet and pocket knife.

In the wallet, were clippings and photos.
The clippings were from the local papers.
They reported father's untimely death.

The old knife was rusted, from his pocket.
I suspect he used it to clip his nails.
I have faded memories of him now.

The photos were of my sister and me.
School pictures of us, very young we were,
and those taken when we were babies too.

I have thought of the day my father fell,
over the years, on many sleepless nights.
What was he thinking on the long way down?

Did he know this was the end of his life?
Did he think one last time of sis and me?
Did he wonder what would become of mom?

I remember one of the clippings well.
I saw many like it neatly clipped out.
They blew around the windy school yard grounds.

My schoolmates had clipped them for show and tell.
I returned to school from the funeral,
and there they were, discarded in the dirt.

Everything changed for sister and me,
on that day, returning from school for lunch.
Our world changed forever when that knife fell.

I placed them in my music room close by.
They sit in the corner of my eye there.
Tokens of what might have been long ago.

© Copyrights G. Jones 2006

Author's Comments:
"I learned of my Father's death one fine fall day, when I returned home from school for lunch. My mother was on the phone crying. Later, after my father's funeral, I returned to school to find clippings blowing around on the school grounds. They were all about my father. The students had cut them out for show and tell, and later discarded them on the school grounds."