Tag: Nathan Bauman

A Letter to my Father

What about those times we spent together?
Or about those cheap promises you made?
I didn’t know it then, but I know it now –
Your version of truth was never sound.
What happened to playing and wrestling around,
Throwing me in the air,
Or pushing the swing?
What happened to the effort of just being there?
Why did you leave?
Why did you make me grow up by myself?
All the things boys learn from their fathers
I had to learn alone.
I still have scars on my face
From when I taught myself to shave.
Relearning how to put on my belt
Because, for years, I had been doing it the wrong way.
It’s things like this
I wonder if you even think about?


We searched high and low
For the tallest we could find.
No need for the young and fresh.
Let those grow taller,
‘Til the tips touch the skies
Then we may return
To reap their sons and daughters.

Ten men here,
Ten over there,
Twenty in total makes the team.
Axes, saws, drills, and chains
Prepare their reckoning.
Hear their cries, their creaks of woe.
The sap now heavily gushes –

Their lives, to men, aren’t seen as such.
We hack and we slash,
We cut and we pull,
We beat them to a pasty pulp.
They live and let live,
Are docile and true.
We look down upon them.
“We’re bigger than you.”

NOVUS Literary and Arts Journal
Lebanon, TN