NaPoWriMo 9

Sadly my Father-in-law died last year.  Although he was suffering from a degenerative illness his actual death was a sudden shock.  He and I weren’t alike.  He was reliable, practical, unassuming and I enjoyed his company.  This was a poem that I wrote to commemorate him.  His precence in my life was a blessing and I miss his quiet humour and steadfastness.

Jack’s Drill

 

A gift from my father in law.

My inheritance.

A small collection of blown plastic cases

contain the soul of the man I knew.

A sander, drill bits,

a battery powered drill.

 

I hold the drill.

It’s functional shape

containing the potentiality for creation.

It was carefully chosen;

no doubt research was undertaken

to find the right tool for the job.

A physical compliment

to the man that chose it.

 

It’s unassuming size masks

the power held within.

Capable of surmounting any task,

bringing to fruition

the form

of ideas held within

the wielder’s hand.

 

Capable, practical, unassuming

ready at a moments notice.

Not for showing off

but for worthwhile assignments.

 

Well maintained,

it’s intrinsic value

understood and respected.

Kept in a protective case

and only available to those

who had the eyes to

understand its substance.

 

Jack, I share so few of your traits

but I was always happier for your company.

So now, even though you have gone,

when I hold this drill

it’s solid practicality

a physical memorial with which

I’ll remember you.