My Father's Skills

My father had many skills,
None of extraordinary note:
One expressed by the saying, 
Mine, not his,
“If you can fix it, 
It isn’t broke.”
Another: to slice
Cake as thin and as
Precise as a pathologist,
In the misplaced hope
That my mother would not
Notice the diminishing sweet.

A third, honed since his
Youth: to fall asleep
At nearly any time, in
Nearly any place, with
Nearly no effort.  His
Father had a newspaper
Route, and my father would
Wake at 3:30 or 4:00 AM
To help deliver the papers
Back in those depression days.

….My mother was impressed 
With my father’s family
Financial well-being…..

To compensate, my father
Learned to sleep whenever
The opportunity arose, or
Befell, depending on how 
You might want to put it.

He was renown in our family
For this particular skill,
And often, when he visited, and
We noticed his absence, we’d
Follow the snores: a couch,
The back bedroom, a cosy chair,
The living room floor.  Wherever
He was whenever he needed
To shut his eyes.

My sons have stories of 
The car pulled to the side 
Of the road for a nap,
As do I,
Or once, on the plane,
A twelve hour snooze
Non-stop, LA to Tel Aviv.

On the boat, a swell hit 
Us broadside; we heard a 
Thunk, and a clunk,
Down below and my
Buddy yelled down,
“Sol, you okay?”
“Sure, no problem.” He
Grabbed the pillow, 
While lying on the cabin
Sole, and when back to
Sleep,

To come up on deck
Later, yawning, and greeting
Us with his mid-day
Post slumber byword:
“Wow, that was a great nap!
When do we eat?”

Sleep well, old man.
You’re missed and remembered.