my identity
stripped down
to essentials
~
a good father
~
my aspiration
~
before dad died
we talked
about money
~
he grew up
an immigrant family
a farm
western canada
dirty thirties
~
he grew up
the eleventh
of twelve children
his family was rich
in love
~
always
they had each other
working, playing
together
~
family was survival
~
he never realized
they were poor
he did wonder
one time
~
the family searched
the home
3 cents
coveting
a postage stamp
~