Sunday, June 18, 2017

Happy Father's Day

To all those men in our past and present who have stepped up to the plate to take responsibility for supporting their families with their labors, time and love. There are many in our lives and among our families that have stepped in when father's were missing also.

My Vernon, Johnson, Lowe, Stevens, Hortin, Wilkins fahers are my heritage.


My day and mom, he died 72 years ago today.
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THE OLD AIRPORT by Lin Floyd
            Milford, Utah June 18, 1945

Outside of town, an empty hangar stands
            alone in a forgotten place.
Breezes blow through a tattered windsock.
            Stacks of tumbleweeds trapped
by sagebrush long for release from barriers,
            to fly away to freedom...new adventures.

No airplanes use this empty landing strip now.
            Weeds take control of runways
once filled with private flying machines:       
            World War II Piper Cubs used
to train military pilots for armed conflict,
            sold as surplus...after the war.

Just a simple metal frame covered by
            thin linen with tandem seating.
Fuel tank in back balanced the engine
            with one propeller in front.
An inexpensive way...to promote
            the popular pastime of flying.

As a young girl not yet five, I remember
            soaring over this sacred sanctuary
before my father left on his last...final flight.

3 comments:

Rambling Woods said...

Very emotional post..hug... Michelle

Linda Reeder said...

Oh my! What a painful and poignant memory you have captured in this poem, something I'm sure your treasure.

Terri Tiffany said...

Your parents were very handsome people. Sounds as though your father died young? I hope your day was a good one!