Victoria Day

They named it for Victoria, born the 24th of May,
And our family celebrated every year the same old way.


We dug the weeds from the base paths on the field across the road.
We carried the folding tables, and the infield grass we mowed.

Our faces flushed with excitement as we settled in to play,
For Daddy always joined the game on the 24 th of May.

I would stand on the left side where a long forgotten plow
Had furrowed the grassy meadow with a wrinkle on its brow.

Donny would stand stand by the beech tree and Janet would take first base
And relatives and neighbours would settle themselves in place.

Daddy would hit the ball so hard, sometimes it flew past the tree
Sometimes he hit it to Donny; sometimes he hit it to me.

After the game and the picnic, after we'd taken our turn
At racing about with sparklers, then we'd watch the schoolhouse burn.

Daddy would bend by the fire, face all aglow in the light.
I could have stayed there forever; I wish I could be there tonight.

They named it for Victoria, born the 24 th of May,
But on my heart's own calendar, it was always Father's Day.