The Way He Fixed Things

by The Hearth Voice

Original EveryPoem Studio house-voice poem.

My father fixed the loose gate, the lamp with the stubborn switch, the bicycle chain that bit my thumb. Feelings were harder. He brought a screwdriver, stood beside the broken sentence, and asked where it hurt. Years later I understand: he loved by staying near the problem, turning it gently, trying every tool he had.
55 words · 11 lines · Free Verse
fathercarerepairextended metaphorimageryunderstatementfree-verse

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