SKETCHING

 

Tired of being ignored my father's hand

Would start drawing -- men with pipes,

Women with hats, a wolfmonster

Juggling fish and cans of soup. Sometimes

The figures read a book or danced together

Or argued with a television set. Cats might appear

Or dogs or birds or angels. If the Thimble Theater

Was dark, Popeye might come by and sit

Playing sad songs on a concertina 

Until Olive Oyl and Wimpy came with a barrow

And wheeled him home. 

                                 Very occasionally

My father's hand would draw in my primitive style

Or flawlessly copy one of my mother's two doodles:

Twined figure eights or a flower in a flowerpot.