Calls From The West

It calls. 

The sounds of laughter,

A tv that’s blaring way too loud. 

Little voices talking,

Calling to each other,

Being together. 

The sounds of the little feet walking over. 

Saying “Dad”,

Followed by some crazy request. 

If it’s to build a fort, 

Or create,

I’m in for it. 

Never shooting down the chance,

To feed an imagination. 

An inspired thought. 

Giving it a full life. 

Even if I have to be the robot. 

Or jungle gym. 

Once the call was south. 

I came,

Learned,

Got a new beginning. 

Now it calls back west. 

To the mountains,

The ducks

And the lakes. 

Mostly, the voices that call me dad. 

​

- Alden Crowe