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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