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/