Like Father Like Son


I wanted to be like my father,

to follow in his footsteps,

or rather,

his wheel-steps

as he drove his tram along the shiny rails.


We played the game constantly to give me practice

but I couldn’t quite get the hang of driving.

I was scared of crashing and tumbling on to the city streets.


So he bought me a Conductors uniform 

and a bag for the money and tickets.

He drove and I sold the tickets.

It was a good compromise.


I think about it now as I look down on the city,

with its streets and green spaces

which no longer have trams.





https://sparksofcalliope.com/2024/03/23/two-poems-by-lynn-white-3/


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