When I need encouragement
Or straightening out a bit
I talk to my father
And he’s been dead a bit
He died in 1988
On Saint Patrick’s Day
The beginning of the Cheltenham Festival
He would have backed a horse that day
I hear his voice
I see him now
Sitting in his chair
Not one to pontificate
But a father always there
I recognised his wisdom
His quiet manly air
It doesn’t end that fathering
He’s there
He’s always there
So how can people manage without a dad?
Many have to
That’s the truth of it
But a mother’s warm embrace
Her constancy and grace
Is balanced by a father’s manly way
That lad I saw in prison
Where’s his dad?
Where is the steady hand?
The calming word
These lads they have no hinterland
No refuge from the cold
A father is a faithful friend
His every word well told
Brian Fahy
16 February 2022
Erris Poetry 