This poem was written with my father's story in mind. He lived this: helping raise his many siblings after his father's early death, and then bringing up his own children with his wife. He was a man who served as a medic in WWII, and worked everyday of his life. No one would begrudge him a beer at the kitchen table after working 5.5 days a week, and rarely missing a day's work in over five decades. But it was two to three quarts a night, not a single brew. When I look back as an adult, I do see that my dad was a kitchen-table alcoholic. Beer was his sedative. And for as much gentleness and kindness that was in him, there was a deep measure of depression with his experiences in life. I feel this is true for many men and women.
Published in http://bangordailynews.com/ UNI-VERSE; Poetry Editor and Author Dana Wilde, www.dwildepress.net; February 28, 2011. Photograph by Jean Schugart-Schild. The last word of the first line rhymes with the last word of the last line, and so forth, until you reach the middle of the poem where that word rhymes with last words of the 1st and last lines. <abcdeaedcba> I thought it showed how the subject of the poem folded in on himself. This poem was written with my father's story in mind. He lived this: helping raise his many siblings after his father's early death, and then bringing up his own children with his wife. He was a man who served as a medic in WWII, and worked everyday of his life. No one would begrudge him a beer at the kitchen table after working 5.5 days a week, and rarely missing a day's work in over five decades. But it was two to three quarts a night, not a single brew. When I look back as an adult, I do see that my dad was a kitchen-table alcoholic. Beer was his sedative. And for as much gentleness and kindness that was in him, there was a deep measure of depression with his experiences in life. I feel this is true for many men and women.
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