He taught me to enjoy
The crunchy flakiness of pretzels,
the squishy insides of bratwurst,
The moistness and texture of Bundt cake.
He gave me the power to sneeze
He made me half and half,
not only one culture and heritage
The first thing I saw was his face,
and even at a very young age I could see that he needed
a long nap.
The first thing I touched was his large fingers
The first thing I heard were his smooth, rhythmic lullabies
that he learned from his father.
Most of the senses I learned from him
He made me appreciate classical music,
When all my pals just yawned at it.
But he has learned from me too.
He now watches Star Wars,
and thoroughly immerses himself into the movies
Even though up until five years ago,
he couldn’t stand the shooting and explosions.
When he wants to make a point,
He makes it with a stern face,
But always leaves room at the end for an ironic remark.
And when he does,
I smile a big toothy grin,
Knowing I have passed on my personality,
To my father.
Oliver Street, NW
To become a successful businessman in commercial biz.
Andreas Daum, my dad