My father, who I hardly knew, <br />Was never one to shirk. <br />He died in nineteen twenty four, <br />While helping friends at work. <br /> <br />He came from Colorado, <br />Where the men were taught to ride. <br />He joined the Army Engineers, <br />And did the job with pride. <br /> <br />At first, he went to Texas, <br />Where he joined a border fight, <br />Controlling Pancho Villa; <br />And the Army did it right. <br /> <br />When more important war developed, <br />Far across the sea, <br />He went to France in World War One <br />To battle Germany. <br /> <br />When peace was won, he married young, <br />And started family. <br />But long and healthy life for him <br />Just wasn't meant to be. <br /> <br />A good mechanic, then, he was; <br />'Sixteenth and L, ' his base. <br />'A place for everything, ' he'd say, <br />'And everything in place.' <br /> <br />While helping string a high antenna, <br />From the shop, outside, <br />A rotted window sill gave way. <br />He fell. <br />That's how he died. <br /> <br /> <br />(Mother told her three children about their father as they grew up. <br /> I wrote this poem about him in Falls Church, Virginia, during October 1985.)<br /><br />Frank V. Gardner<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/father-i-hardly-knew/
